When it Rains
by Avillie
Summary: SAGA (Part I) Season 2 - With both his father's death and brother's destiny haunting him, Dean finally gives up hunting. For good. Or, at least until the problems he's running from track him down.. Humor/Drama/Agnst, plus a whole lot more! Enjoy :p
1. Chapter 1

_-Dedicated to Elsa-_

**Disclaimer: **

About the show: I don't own Supernatural or any of it's characters or content; the WB/CW does (in case you didn't know that). I'm just like everyone else, doing something I love with a show I love.

About the story: I always have anxiety about posting on this site, so here is a side note. If you hate it, I get it. No need to tell me repeatedly, or get mad about it. Just walk away, and I'll quit while I'm ahead. But this is something I've put a lot of work into, and I guess I'm fishing here to see if anyone else could enjoy it. I've never written narration-style before, so it's been tough. I've also never been fond of straying from the shows I write about, and though I feel I've stayed true to the characters, I know the story itself is not something I'm used to writing. But, if you like it, let me know and I'll keep it coming.

* * *

So this really sucks.

For the first time, in a long time, I was happy. Perfectly content with where I was in life, you know? And, yeah, I know that a lot of people say that one day, and then the next they find themselves trapped back in the same hell hole they started off in. But this was different. This was the real deal.

Pure happiness. And you know how I know that? Well, I just do.

You see, 'happiness' almost never happens for me—or my brother, for that matter. We're two peas in a pod of misfortune, and at a very young age, we were convinced that a 'happily ever after' just wasn't in our deck of cards… Not that we believe in all that Cinderella crap, or anything.

But like I said, this was different. See, there were these two girls—sisters, actually. I know that either sounds either really great or really wrong, depending on your style, but it really wasn't either of the two. It was, like I said, happiness.

We were past all that teenage fantasy stuff, once and for all. I had my girl, Sammy had his, and it was really that simple.

So what happened? That's what you're wondering, right? What happened to screw it all up? Who tasted the forbidden fruit and fell from grace? Who… well, I'm out of metaphors. Anyway, I wish I could point the finger—play the blame game—but I can't.

It was me.

I messed up. I can admit that, but, honestly, it's not 'entirely' my fault. Unfortunately, if I told you the truth, though, you'd just laugh. You'd look at me like I had fifteen heads and walk the other way. You wouldn't believe me, if I tried.

Still, why should that stop my story? I really don't care if people think I'm crazy. For all I know, maybe I am. But as far as I'm concerned, I lost my one chance at happiness, so you might as well too. You might as well know the truth, even if it's crazy like me.

It all started a little over a year ago. My brother developed some super powers… (See? I told you, you wouldn't believe me.) But anyway, we were workin' this one case, and out of the blue he was psychic—or something like that.

At that point, and even long after, we hadn't figured out the full extent of his abilities. Given our family history, however, it made sense that he had'em. Pretty much anyone we'd ever cared about died. And not just 'rolled over and died,' or 'accidentally' died, they were murdered. Not by people, but things.

Our mother, father, girlfriends, family friends, friends' friends—hell, even the people who bought our old house came close to the afterlife, but even with all the misery, we managed to get by. It was hard not to, really. After a while, I think you just plain get used to it. I know I did, and, like my father, I dedicated my life to fighting the freaky and unnatural.

Sam, though? It was different for him. See, he was just a baby when our mom was killed. I was much older, so I got it. I understood why dad was always gone. Why he was always out "hunting." Why we were always on the road, never had a home, or the normal, apple-pie life we used to have.

Dad's vengeance and his quest to find mom's killer rubbed off on me, and viola—instant me. Dean Winchester. Hunting became my life, but, like I said, it was different for my brother. The poor kid never knew what being normal was all about. He wasn't like me, and he didn't have my memories to fall back on. He never knew mom or the life we lived before her death. He never knew our house, our neighborhood, the dinners, holiday decorations, the parks, or the play dates.

The more I think about it, now, the more it makes sense. Dad and I both knew 'normal', and while we were fighting evil in hopes of reclaiming it, Sam was fighting just to figure out what it was. That's why he left.

If you're wondering what changed his mind, well, then I would be your answer. But, that's a story for another time.

This one's for the girls.


	2. Chapter 2

We'd been driving through the country, bored, looking for a good mystery, when we heard a couple tales about the witch trials. Well, between those stories and the beers that came with'em, we got it in our heads (or, at least, I got it in my head) that we needed to do a little investigating, so we dug in, did some research, and tracked down a couple of would-be decedents of the wicked ones.

What we found was anything but what we were looking for. We surveillanced the place for a couple of days, until we were… well… caught in the act. Honestly, we were just minding our own business, innocently rummaging through a couple drawers when the girls walked in.

Of course, THAT was when we learned Mariah was on her way to becoming a level-three black belt…I'll leave it at that.

Well, by the time I found out about the black belt thing, Sam had managed to use his charm to get us out of trouble. Apparently, while I'd been getting my ass kicked, he was making eyes with Kiers. The sister.

Weird name, right? It's like piers, with a "Kh" sound, and it's actually short of Kiersa, but whatever. I was in too much pain to notice her. …Did I say that? I wasn't "in pain"… not really. I don't care what rope she wears around her waist, I was just a little taken back… for a minute or two.

Anyway, Sam had apologized to Kiers and convinced her to get her sister to let me out of the headlock—I could have gotten out of it myself, but I didn't want to hurt the girl, or anything.

Sam also managed to keep them from calling the cops—which was even better. (With my face all over America's Most Wanted, that was the last thing we needed.) But that was just Sammy, for yah. I swear, that kid can talk himself out of any mess. In all my years, I don't think I've ever seen him at a loss for words. When we were kids in trouble, he'd just smile and make up some crazy story—there wasn't a person in the world who wouldn't buy it. But when I try one of his lame-ass excuses, I become arrogant and sarcastic; go figure.

So, anyway, there we were, standing in the clear, just about on our way out, when Kiers asked us what we were doing in her bedroom. That was when the smooth-talking Sam Winchester lost his cool.

"I… Well, we. …uh. It's, uh, hah."

I couldn't believe it! Had I not just finished saying he could talk himself out of anything?

Like I said, it was obvious that Sammy had a little crush going on, so, really, him being all tongue-tied was a no-brainer. But, it really wasn't a head-over-heels, "she's drop-dead-gorgeous" kind of speechless—not that she wasn't hot or anything— it was just more of an embarrassed "I got caught with my hand in your dresser-drawers" speechless.

Priceless.

I can still remember that nervous look on his face. Can't say I blame him though, it was totally awkward, if you know what I mean. Hell, I probably would have been a little scared too, if I wasn't in so much pai… Yeah. I was scared too. Damn near shaking… Time to change the subject.

Now, remember when I said Sam was the only person I knew who could talk himself out of a homicide conviction? If I didn't put it that way earlier, I should have—he's usually that good. Anyway, come to find out, he wasn't in a class by himself. Kiersa had a much similar talent. If they weren't just two peas in a pod.

This is where it gets a little confusing, because I'm still not sure about this Ron guy. He bursts in, steamin' mad about something. I suppose I'd be a little angry too— if I saw two random strangers in my girl's bedroom—but judging by the reaction the girls had to him, I wouldn't exactly say they were interested.

"What the big-long-line-of-swears is going on here?" Ron yelled. Okay, so maybe that was a bit exaggerated—there may have only been one swear. Actually, no, I don't think he swore. Now that I think about it, he was kind of calm—the well-mannered type. But he was still shocked to find us.

I noticed Mariah roll her eyes. That might have been the only time she actually stopped looking at me, and it was only for a split second. (Probably couldn't help herself, I know that's what you're thinking. I think she just didn't trust me, though.)

"Is everything okay? Who are these guys, Kiersa?" Ron asked.

The moment of truth.

I thought for sure she would have told him the truth—why wouldn't she? I mean, imagine walking into your room and finding two freaks rummaging through all your stuff. Well, the girl just smiled and stared him down. "Tom, I told you I was having friends over, don't you ever listen?"

Okay, so he wasn't a Ron, and I honestly don't know where that name came from— I don't even know a Ron— but the fact is, I don't like the name, and I didn't like him. He was one of those funny, stout, little annoying guys, but since I can't even get his name right, I'm sure you won't believe my description of the guy.

That's okay though, he is just a footnote.

The important thing is that Kiersa, for whatever reason, gave us the benefit of the doubt. I still can't figure out why, but she did. Mariah did seem a little uneasy with the lie, but Sam and I were the only ones to pick up on that. Ron, or Tom, wasn't even suspicious. Honestly, though, she was so convincing that I might have bought it too.

"You remember I was talking about Dean? And Sam?" Kiers questioned her sister.

I told you she was good!

I don't know how she knew our names, but now I would have definitely believed her—even if she had called me Ron.

Well, something in her nervous glance convinced Mariah to play along. "Oh, yeah. Where did you say you met them again? Lake Tahoe?" She answered skeptically.

I'd been tempted to jump in and agree, say how much I loved the place, but I didn't want to push my luck. While Kiers was genuinely trying to help us out, her sister had been genuinely smug.

"Yeah, hey. We should probably put that roast in the oven, or it will never be done in time for dinner. Tom, I don't suppose you could help us unpack the groceries?"

"Already on it." He smiled and looked us over. I did notice a tinge of uncertainty in his eyes, but he seemed to trust Kiersa.

"Great." She said, turning to Sam and me. "I know you two can't stay for dinner, and I'm sorry you missed us today, but I'm glad you found the spare key."

It was like she was reading from a book. Halfway through her farewell speech, Tom left and Mariah folded her arms and turned to her sister for an explanation.

"You can leave now. And unless you want another ass-beating, or a restraining order, I suggest you stay away from us. Bye now."

Her about-face attitude had us all flabbergasted (I love that word). We laughed together, but we eventually got the hint.

"Oh, and Dean?" She looked at me funny—like she wasn't completely sure about my name. I stared back, and while Sam would tell you I had the dumbest look on my face, I was honestly, just acknowledging her.

"Make sure you put the underwear back where you got them."

Hah.

So she was more observant than I gave her credit for, but I'm sure the underwear thing was a lucky guess. I mean, what else could I have possibly be hiding behind my back? Seriously?


	3. Chapter 3

_Apologies, all. _

_I really should have mentioned that I started writing this last March. You'll be able to tell that it was sometime after the episode "Heart" There are also a few episode references in the future, so if you don't want spoilers (s2), you may want to leave now. Sorry about that!!! _

_**Stand In Girl**** -** Thanks for reviewing! I wasn't planning on posting this soon, but because you made me smile, I wanted to try and return the favor._

_I'm glad to hear I was able to amuse you, and I really hope I don't disappoint. I'd like to think I'd be able to stand out of the mold, but only time will tell. I'm truly honored that you gave me a shot-- I know exactly what you mean about new characters, I'm the same way. Normally, I wouldn't even think of straying this far from a show, but this was just something I had to do. There's a story for another day, though. Now, I'll just shut up and post. ;)_

* * *

After we left, Sam was his usual self. He spent the whole night wallowing, and, the next day, he was ready to hit the road. 

"I'm not going back to that house, Dean."

"Are you serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be serious? They're not witches, and there's nothing ..supernatural there. Why would we go back?"

"Because I saw the way you were looking at that girl. Uh. Christy?" I pried.

"Kiersa?" Sam corrected, as if I'd mistaken her name for Bob.

"Yeah that's her name." I scoffed. Seriously, how was I supposed to remember that?

"So what?" Sam shrugged.

"So what??" I asked back.

"Yeah, Dean! So what." He replied like it was no big deal. "She was cute. That's it."

"Cute? Naw, man. She was more than just cute. I mean, puppies are cute. Teddy Bears are cute. Young children are… supposedly cute. You have to give her more credit than cute." I egged him on, but that's when I must have struck a nerve.

"You just don't get it, do you? In case you haven't noticed, we aren't exactly dating material. Okay?"

"Speak for yourself," I muttered.

"No. I mean it." He laughed his usual I-can't-believe-we're-related laugh. "We're not normal people, Dean. We don't have normal lives, and we can't have 'normal' relationships. It will never work, and it's wrong to keep 'planting' ourselves into their lives for a couple of nights of fun before we take off again."

My first reaction was to laugh at Sam, as he was clearly suffering from PMS. Maybe he'd watched too many soaps, or had eaten too much chocolate, or something. But as I ran out of theories for his sudden mood swing, it hit me. I knew exactly what this was all about, and the instant that I did, Sam knew that I knew too. His eyes warned me not to go there, but I knew not to anyway.

What he had meant to say instead of '_before we take off_' was, '_before we get them killed_'

You have to give me some credit here—I could have said something like, "Girls like danger," or "that doesn't mean we have to suffer," but I knew that would just make matters worse. And, as much as I wanted to make fun of his conscience and moral standings, I just smiled and told him he was right.

"You're right, Sam," I said honestly, "and I was wrong. It's not good to use women like hotels, and I'm ashamed of myself. I'm sorry. So sorry that I must go and make amends. I will go straight back and apologize, but, first, do you happen to recall the location of the nearest church? I fear I have other sins which I must confess beforehand."

Okay. You caught me.

I made fun of him and left.

What else was I supposed to do? In all honesty, I couldn't stop thinking about that Mariah girl, and I knew Sam couldn't get his mind off of her sister. He'd had that distant look on his face the entire ride home last night. That meant only one thing—I was right.

She was more than cute, and we were definitely staying in town.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

_**Laugh and Love** - Welcome aboard and thank you for your review!!_

_I sincerely hope you don't shy away from here, because I do appreciate the feedback. Especially the reactions--just makes everything worthwhile. I also love that you see a plausibility factor--even if it's the slightest bit--makes me feel less delusional--that's a good thing. I hope I can keep that up._

_**Stand in Girl** - Just in the nick of time, wow you're on late. It's 3AM my time. You'll probably be surprised to see I've posted again. Apparently I'm speeding, but it's been a really great day. This will probably be my last for a bit, though. I don't want to get too ahead of myself and leave everyone hanging. Anyway, this post is much longer, hopefully not to the point of overkill. Glad you're smiling!  
_

_I know the romance thing is a touchy subject, so I will warn everyone, Dean does become a tad obsessed with getting Mariah's attention. You'll find out he has a lot on his mind and feels he has something to prove. With that in mind, this isn't some happy, sappy love story. There is a plot, and there will be some clues heading your way. Keep an eye out ;)_

* * *

As I was driving to their house, thinking about Sam's happiness theory, I realized something. It was actually the perfect pickup line. 

Mariah would greet me at the door, and I'd have a deep, contemplative expression on my face.

"Hi." I would say hesitantly, "Look, I'm sorry about the whole underwear thing, but here is the story: My brother really likes your sister, he's just afraid to ask her out because he's getting over a bad relationship. I was wondering if maybe him and her, and maybe you and me, could meet up sometime. What do you say?"

Even though it didn't really explain why we'd been in their house, it was still irresistible. And, sure, I had to leave out a few minor details—like the fact Sam had actually killed his last girlfriend—that would ruin things—but it's not like they'd understand the whole werewolf thing.

Honestly, I didn't understand the whole werewolf thing, and the thought of it made me angry. It really wasn't Sam's fault. Why'd she have to torment the poor kid, anyway? She should have just let me off her and move on, but, no. It had to be Sammy.

Best I could figure, Sam must have been about 100 times more upset than I had felt after he'd saved me from that crazy faith-healer—knowing that Layla was going to die because I had lived; and knowing that guy who died, died so that I could live. It was a miserable feeling—one I didn't care to spend much time thinking about.

I was starting to wonder if maybe Sam was right about this. Maybe we weren't meant to have normal relationships. I mean first Dad lost Mom, Sam lost Jessica, and then Madison too? The odds weren't entirely in our favor, but did that really mean we weren't to have any relationships at all? I mean, Cassie was okay with our strange lives—Sarah too. What if we were totally upfront about things? It might take longer to find dates, but at least they'd know what they were getting themselves into. Plus, Sam wouldn't feel so bad.

I liked that idea, but of course, I forgot about it when I saw a black pickup truck pull out of the girls' driveway. I never saw who the driver was, and if it had been Mariah, I knew I couldn't pass up the opportunity to talk to her, so I followed.

A few miles down the road, the truck turned and pulled up next to a small building. I made the mistake of turning too. See, it was Kiersa driving. She was heading into work when she noticed I was following her. She'd gotten out of her truck, walked over to the tailgate, and crossed her arms—just like Mariah had done yesterday.

I slowly pulled up beside her and grinned.

"You know, I might not know karate, but I can still kick your ass."

"You know," I smiled back despite her threat, "that's the second time you've referenced my behind; I'm starting to think you like me."

She shot me a look of disgust, dropped one arm and lifted the other to her head, as if it hurt or something. "What do you want?"

I felt my smile fade away. For some reason, I couldn't just say, "I like your sister," or, "My brother thinks you're hot." So I shook my head, and apologized.

"Listen," She laughed, "I don't know who the hell you are, or who the hell you think you are, and I certainly don't know why you're following me, but you should consider yourself lucky. I saved your…" She stopped mid-threat refusing to say 'ass' and bit her lip in frustration. I laughed.

"You ARE lucky. Next time I see you, I AM calling the cops. Stay away from me AND my sister."

"All right. Thank you, Christen." I hollered as politely as I could as she walked away. She shook her head and went into the restaurant.

I sat there for a few minutes, pondering my next move. Would I really give up that easy? It was pretty clear she never wanted to see me again, but what about what I wanted? What about what Mariah wanted? What about Sam?

No. I wasn't ready to throw in the towel, not yet. I parked my car off to the side and went to get me some breakfast. The second I walked in, I saw Kiersa. She didn't notice me at first—her back was turned and she was joking with one of the customers as she picked up his plate.

She turned right into my smile and quickly lost hers. Man, she looked pissed. I don't know why, either. She must have really thought that what she'd said to me out in the parking lot had been enough to get rid of me. She was probably angry that she'd been wrong. She didn't know I was always up for a good challenge.

Well, at that point, things were pretty awkward, so I just did what any man in my situation would do— I played dumb. Pretending I didn't see her, I turned to another waitress, one who was obviously through with her shift, and asked her for the day's specials. I wasn't expecting the girl to actually smile back, though.

"Never mind." I said after she had started answering my question—I don't think she noticed I really didn't care. I wasn't even listening to her; I was waiting for Kiersa, dishes and all, to come my way.

I continued smiling, beamed right in her direction, but she didn't seem to care. She just brushed past me in a huff and made her way into the kitchen. I turned and followed, a little surprised no one tried to stop me. Usually, restaurants are kinda funny about that stuff, but this was a small place in a small town, in the middle of nowhere.

"I noticed you didn't run to the phone." I joked, on my way through the swinging doors. Bad joke, I guess. She dropped her dishes into the sink and started the faucet.

"I noticed you're incapable of comprehending even the simplest words that come out of my mouth." She kept washing those dishes, without even turning to see me—I guess that was good. At least she didn't see me as a threat.

I laughed again.

"Look," She finally said, slamming her dish into the strainer. I'm surprised that thing didn't break into two, the way she kept smashing it around. She shut off the sink, grabbed a towel to dry her hands, and turned to me.

"I don't know what you think, but I didn't let the home invasion slide because I liked you or anything."

"Oh, stop. You're breaking my heart." I said with sarcasm. She looked at me funny, as she had the last time she hadn't understood me.

"Why are you following me?"

I didn't have an answer for that. Truth was, I hadn't really been following her, remember? Anyway, she caught on quick.

"Oh, God. You weren't following me, were you? You thought I was Mariah."

"You're a witch."

The words just came spilling out. I bit my tongue—how else could she have possibly known that? I mean, seriously, how the hell did she know that?

"Excuse me?" She looked flabbergasted. (Again, love that word). "You know, I've been called a lot of names, Dean Winchester, but never before have I heard that one. Maybe slight variations, but never that word."

"Okay, so while on the subject of names, how did you know my name?"

I had her there, and I knew it. She had to have used some witchy-voodoo to figure out who I was. How else could she have magically known the names of the two random guys she found breaking into her house?

"Registration in your glove compartment."

"And Sam's?"

"Oh, I don't know, I must have picked it up while you two were playing twenty-questions in my bedroom."

I laughed again and scratched my head—hadn't really plan on the conversation backfiring on me the way it did. She was good, and I was starting to see that I'd never be ahead in talking with her.

"Are we done?" She asked when I failed to continue the conversation. "I don't know about you, but I know I don't get paid to stand around and chat with strangers."

"Uh, wait." I managed to catch her before she'd left the room, but she read my mind, yet again.

"My sister's not interested."

The swinging door closed behind her, leaving me standing (you guessed it) flabbergasted. Fortunately, I recovered quickly, and chased her back out into the restaurant.

"How do you know she's not interested? Did she say that?" I followed her right to her next customers' table. Seated was a family of four, out to enjoy their Saturday meal. You could really tell they weren't impressed by me standing there, stalking their waitress, but I didn't care.

"I'm a little busy, Dean."

Didn't take me long to figure out my next move, because there was really only one thing left to do. I was still hungry, so I went out and grabbed myself a seat. She was the only waitress on the clock, and she was pretty social. She would have to talk to me.

I tried giving her a minute or two to wait on that family, but they were just too slow.

"Excuse me, Kristen? You know I was here first, do you think you could get my coffee? Sometime today?"

"You have got to be kidding me." She rolled her eyes in my direction, but I continued smiling.

"Hey! I'm a paying customer. I don't need the attitude. Don't you want a tip?"

"I've got a few tips for you," she grumbled under her breath, then proceeded to take the family's order. I tapped my fingers as the mother ordered her eggs. The kids took their time making up their minds, and I almost wanted to order for them, but I kept my cool. She brought the order to the chef, and for a minute I thought she'd run out the back door.

Eventually, she came back out with coffee.

"You're not her type." She said rather defensive. Again, she wasn't too easy on the glassware. I wondered if they took broken dishes out of her paycheck.

"And you know this how…?"

Wow, that was a great question. Maybe because she's her sister and has known her since birth, dumb-ass.

"Because she prefers the non-desperate, non-arrogant, non-stalker type boyfriend? You two just wouldn't hit it off. Besides, she's already dating somebody." She said pouring coffee into my magically unscathed cup.

"You're lying."

Bet you didn't know I could mind read too, ey?

The girl didn't move an inch, but I could see her step back. She was soo busted. As she backed away with her coffee pot, I continued my evaluation. "She doesn't have a boyfriend, and I am her type because you're so determined to keep me away from her."

Ah, yeah. After years of avoiding trouble with Sammy's gift, I'd become a pretty good bullshit-detector.

"Well, since you're the expert, I'm sure you already know why, so I guess this conversation is over. Coffee's on the house. Have a nice day."

I really do like how she ends her conversations— leaving no room for any objection whatsoever. 'Okay. Bye.' 'Whatever. See ya.' 'Nice talking with you, Get lost.' That girl was something else. Spunky—too much so for me—I couldn't imagine her and Sam hitting it off. I mean, I'm the one that likes'em feisty.

I wondered if Mariah had her personality, or if she was the sweetheart of the family. Started thinking about what Sam said about us not being able to have normal relationships too—convinced myself he was making that up. I was determined, now.

I waited patiently while Kiers took care of her other customers. I think I may have sat there for three hours.

My coffee didn't last that long, but I was willing to wait until she was so fed up with me sitting there, she'd have no other option but to come talk with me.

Another hour passed, and I was astounded by her resilience. Yes, I know what those two words mean, I'm not stupid. I bet I flabbergast you, don't I? Ha! Well, more and more time went by, and I think around 3 her shift ended. She took off her red apron, and disappeared in the kitchen.

Again, I began wondering if she had escaped through the back door, or climbed out a window, but I knew that wasn't her style. She wasn't afraid of me, and she proved that once again when she came back out.

She walked right over to my table and sat down across from me, leaned back and bit her lip.

I wasn't going to give up until I got what I wanted, and she knew that.

"What are you doing tonight?"

"You tell me," I laughed.

"Pick me up at 6. If you pass my inspection, I'll put in a good word for you. If not, and I mean it, I will blah blah blah-blah blah, blah blah blah. Blah blah blah."

Okay, so I might have lost interest in what she was saying after I figured out the equation. Good impression Yes, you can date my sister. Bad impression well, I didn't hear that part— I was too busy thinking of what I could do to make the good impression.

I nodded a few times and thanked her before she left. Then, because I really had been hungry, I sat around and waited to be served.


	5. Chapter 5

_Both of you are right on the money about Kiersa. She is very overprotective, and that will definitely cause conflict later on. Still, and this is entirely my opinion, but I feel Sam needs someone of her caliber. One quote sticks out in my mind and it's one he said to Jessica in Pilot - "What would I do without you?"_

_**Stand in Girl** - Glad you liked that blah-blah bit. I was afraid it was a little redundant, but writing Kiersa's "Or Else" speech was very difficult. Some things sounded too cliche, and others were too rough. The blah's were a happy medium. Don't worry about Dean either. He holds his own, and he will definitely have more time to shine. I know what you mean about Bela, though, she really is on my nerves. I've said from the beginning, adding any new, reoccurring characters (female especially) would ruin the chemistry. _

_**Laugh and Love **- I'm glad you liked the vocabulary thrown in there. I seem to remember Sam's word choice disagreeing with Dean, and I enjoyed that. I planned to make a joke about a thesaurus later on, but I'm not sure if it will ever fit now. Anyway, that is the reason you'll notice Dean experimenting with bigger words.Don't be too flabbergasted if you see that word again ;)_

_Hope you'll all enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!!_

* * *

I brought my leftovers back for Sam. He wasn't too impressed. 

Not because the food wasn't good, or anything—the food was great. He would have known that, had he tried it. He was just in a bad mood because I'd ditched him.

I suppose I'd be a little ticked off too, if he'd taken the car and left me stranded, but he could have tagged along if he wanted to. Instead, he chose to stay in the room and sleep.

He started with me the second I opened the door, too. Seriously, you'd think we were married, or something.

"Where have you been?"

"Sitting in a coffee and/or sub shop." I smiled.

See? I told him the truth, but do you think he believed me?

"All day?" He laughed in disbelief.

"Yep." I laughed back, hopping onto my bed and crossing my legs. It sounded strange, I know it, but I wasn't lying.

"Real mature, Dean. Fine. Don't tell me. I don't even think I want to know."

"Suit yourself."

I tried my best to sound indifferent, but I think that only bugged him more. He tried storming off, but that didn't work because the motel room was too small, so he sighed.  
He bit his lip, licked them, and huffed, all while shaking his head. I knew he was trying so hard to ignore me, but deep down, he was curious. Mad, but curious.

It was easy to pretend I didn't notice, or enjoy, his frustration. I knew that he'd eventually give up, and when he plopped down onto his bed and threw his arms in defeat, I just grinned. "I've got a date."

"With Mariah? That's great." He didn't sound surprised or thrilled.

As annoying as my brother was, he wasn't stupid. He must have suspected that's what I'd been up, but his reply still left me with a dilemma. To tease, or not to tease?

Oh, who am I kidding, there's no question about it. Not even a second thought. What else are brothers for?

"Actually, with Kristina." I continued my indifferentness, hoping it'd seem like I'd forgotten he'd liked her. I still wasn't lying—I technically had a date with the girl, didn't I?

"Kristina? Wait, you mean with Kiersa?"

The look on his face was priceless, even if I had messed up her name again. He was confused, but he was trying so hard to act as though he wasn't.

"Oh." He nodded his head a few times as he thought about what to say, but the best he could come up with was, "that's nice."

"Aw, come on, Sammy! No hard feelings, right? I mean, you said it yourself—you weren't interested? Or something about it not working? She was just _cute_, right?"

"Yeah. No. ..It's fine." He lied.

"No, it's not, Sam. I should have turned her down—she just caught me by surprise, you know? I mean, we were just sitting there having coffee, and she asked me out. I should have said no."

"No—it's fine, Dean." He repeated. Still sad, but still determined to convince me he wasn't.

"You sure, man? I can call her right now, tell her it's off. I wouldn't want to—"

"I said it's fine, okay? Go out. Have fun. Whatever."

"All right," I laughed, pretending not to notice it was really bugging him. I should have ended it there, but the joke was just too good. I mean, how often does a situation like this actually present itself?

I figured I should play it up as long as I could.

Sam went to bed early, and I got ready for my date. Hadn't really been planning on dressing up, or anything, but I figured I might as well play along.

I really did want to make the right impression. So, I put on my best shirt, and my cleanest, least damaged pair of jeans, and threw on some cologne, before taking off.


	6. Chapter 6

_Okay, let's see. Lots and lots of people to thank this time. Too bad I can't just increase the font size and write one 'big' thanks. ...Just kidding. Anyway, on a more serious note, I'm sorry I didn't get this piece posted sooner, I know a lot of you were looking forward to it. Last week was just a crappy week. We kept losing power at home, and the internet at work (plus it was my first week back to work, and I'm getting ready to start my last semester of classes. Welcome to life, I know.) Anyway, this is the first of two posts. As soon as I get the other one perfected, I'll have it up here. I promise it's longer... _

_ **Stand in Girl** - I hope that last chapter didn't throw you off, but, like I said so much has already been written, so there's no going back.  
**Laugh and Love** - I'm getting the vibe that Sam is your favorite? I'm sorry, he's mine too, and that is why I must torture him this way. Dean will get his share of angst, but he just so happens to be the narrator who loves to tease his brother. /sigh/  
**FeistyFeral** - Welcome to the story!! Thank you for all your positive reviews. Another reason I'd been avoiding posting was because I'd actually lost my glasses for about 3 days. I'd been ready for bed when your reviews came in. ...Still remember squinting, my face inches from the monitor. HA!  
**SikemiNatural **- Welcome as well! Glad you're loving the story! About the narration, again, it's so hard to do. Easy enough to write, but from an author's stand point, it's challenging. I'm so tempted to drop it for a scene or two, but I've refused to. Still, there's just so much that's missing, especially later on, like conversations between Mariah/Kiersa/Sam, and all of their sincere feelings (Dean, so far, has been a pretty good judge, but you may start to notice he isn't always accurate). Then there are other things that he just couldn't possibly know about. Fortunately, I've managed to keep the narration consistent thus far, and I don't plan on giving it up. _

* * *

To start things right, I was ten minutes early ...and I brought flowers (addressed, of course, to Mariah). 

Kiers looked very amused.

"For some reason," She smiled, sitting on her front steps."I just don't picture you as the flower type,"

She'd been waiting for me, and she waited for me to get out of the car before she stood up.

Was this a test?

How long had she been sitting there? Was 'ten minutes early' too late in girl-time? I wished I had a sister.

I avoided any further exploration of that thought, though; I knew it would only end with some sort of joke about Sam. And, I also knew that a joke like that would definitely NOT help me make my good impression. Still, I needed to say something. She was 'waiting' for me to say something. Her soft eyes hardening with suspicion. I couldn't just stand there with flowers, like some geek on prom night.

I had to think of something quick, and, me being me, I replied with the God's honest truth: "That's because I'm not." I laughed. Stupid me, strike one.

"Sorry, what I meant was. It's... I, uhhm,."

"You sound like your brother." She interrupted with a laugh. I was glad, because, had she not, I would have surely continued sounding like an idiot. I realized she was joking with me, which was a good thing. I laughed too, but I still felt like an idiot.

I had this sneaking suspicion her goal tonight was to do just that… Make me feel like an idiot. I guess that's why the next thing she said really surprised me. 

"And, for the record, Mariah isn't really the flower type either." She walked over to the passenger's side of the Impala and got in.

I hopped in too and started up the car. "Really?"

That tip came out of the blue, and I know I should have thought before I replied, but I just didn't think to—it just came out. As I put the car in gear, I tried to get a little more information out of her. "What does she like?"

"That's not really any of your business yet, now is it?" She smirked.

That smirk convinced me of two things. The first being that maybe I'd been wrong about her. Maybe she wasn't the annoyingly rude, obnoxiously snarky, evil woman I thought she was. Maybe there was some depth to her, yet, which lead to my second realization. Maybe I had a chance with Mariah after all.

"No, I guess not." I smiled back. She smiled again and nodded.

"Good answer."

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

_As promised, here is the second post. Hope you all enjoy them both! _

* * *

She took me to this local bar, Emo's or Elmo's or something like that. It was a neat place, considering the town's only franchise was a Starbucks. Talk about lame, right? But seriously, it was a neat place. Cute getup, live band, lots of beer.

Anyway, we get there a little before 6:30, and I think it's safe to say that the town's entire population was present (20 or so people). Considering it was a small place, it was pretty packed, but Kiers had her connections. Tom. Ron. Whatever his name was—he was the bartender.

I followed her to the back, and sure as Abraham is my middle name, there were two seats waiting for us. Okay, my middle name isn't really Abraham, but you get the picture.

"The usual, K?" Tom smiled, drying a glass with his white rag. Typical bartender, you know? But he looked real funny in the vest—kind of like a two year old in a tuxedo—the shoe just didn't fit the foot.

"Yep." She smacked her lips and hopped up onto the barstool.

"Nice place," I commented before sitting down (as casually as I could) to order a beer. I wasn't sure if she was one of those anti-alcohol chicks, but I was hoping if I continued to be charming, she wouldn't care if I drank water, tea, motor oil, or fermented starch.

I'm not sure what happened, but I could tell something was wrong. She just seemed very distant—like she was staring at the wall beside her, ignoring me. Maybe she WAS unimpressed by my choice of drink, or I might not have been casual enough. What if I smelt funny? Not that I smell funny, but sometimes if you put on too much aftershave, or in this case, never mind.

I was still running through the list of all the things I could have screwed up when she turned to me and asked a simple question.

"So what were you doing this time last year?"

Like I said simple, right? She wanted to know what my life was like. I thought nothing about it, and started retracing my steps. (It would have been easier to answer if we didn't travel so damn much.)

A part of me wanted to make something up—but knew I wasn't the best liar, and I wasn't going to risk my only shot at Mariah by trying to bluff the brilliant, so I told her the truth—or, at least what I thought was the truth.

"Spent some time in Indiana, Oklahoma, and good'ol Kansas."

As I was talking, out of no where, our drinks arrived with a smash. Or, at least mine did. I was starting to think this slamming-dishes thing was a trait of the town, but then I remembered Tom to be the jealous type.

Still, he was a footnote, and a grouchy one at that. I mean imagine the nerve of this guy, slamming our glasses down like he was someone special in his cheap suit. He's lucky one of those glasses didn't shatter in his hand, but judging by the white bandage that covered his right palm, I could tell he was already having a bang up night.

"Hey, easy on the stemware, huh? Don't want to mess up your other hand." I laughed trying to smooth things over. He laughed back, but not in the friendly, 'you're right, that was douchey of me' sort of way. It was more of an arrogant smirk, one which he hid well from Kiersa with a quick turn from her sightline.

I could have cared less about him or his pissy attitude, though, and despite his bad vibe I enjoyed the first sip of my drink. I needed it. Kiers still hadn't said anything since I'd answered her question, and I was starting to get nervous. I 'had' been to Kansas. I 'had' been to Oklahoma, but Indiana? Had that been April? Maybe I'd been in Illinois—they were close, right? Both start with the letter I?

I was usually good with geography, but this girl had me second guessing my own name. I didn't know where I'd been—which kinda technically made what I said a lie—and I think she had picked up on it. She was just staring down at her watermelon martini, swirling her cherry with the little swirl-stick thing.

"Oh, so, you've never been to Missouri?"

Missouri? I had to think about it—didn't want to say anything stupid. Yeah, I'd been to Missouri a few times in my life, but in March?

It hit me then.

The shapeshifter. How the hell could she possibly know about that?

"Never had anything freaky happen? Killed people, died, or anything crazy like that?"

She asked that last question with a nervous smile, and I can still remember the look in her eyes—it was like seeing the know-it-all without all the answers. All her confidence and… pizzazz was just gone; it was like starting at a scared child.

I looked down at my drink.

I felt her eyes on me, waiting. I didn't know what to say.

"A lot of freaky things happen to me and Sam." I said.

It hadn't been my intent to drag my brother into this, but it was the truth. Not that I think it made a difference. I was waiting for her to get up and leave, or to splash the rest of that pink drink in my face. Heck, I was even waiting for her to call the cops, or Ron. Tom, I mean. The footnote. But she just looked at me and smiled uneasily.

"Okay, so you drive a flashy car around the country with your little brother, and freaky things happen to you all the time. Anything else I should know?" She was still smiling, even after she'd taken a big swig of her drink, so I smiled back and did the same.

For the next few minutes, there was an awkward silence. Neither of us knew where to take the conversation. I was happy she'd dropped the subject of my unusual death, even if, at that moment, I felt comfortable enough to tell her anything.

Honestly, I don't think I could have scared that girl away if I tried. She sure looked like one of those girlie girls, with her painted nails, fancy drink, and heels, but inside she really was something else. I hoped Mariah was too.

"So, it's just you and Sam?"

"Yeah." I said staring down at my glass. "Our mother died when we were little, and we lost our father last year."

"I'm sorry."

"Ah, it's okay. What about you? Just you and your sister?"

"Yeah. Well." She stopped to think about it. "Sorta."

"Sorta, huh?"

"Yeah… It's …complicated." She nodded, realizing 'complicated' was the right word, and stared down at her drink.

"Welcome to my world." I muttered and we both laughed.

"Well, here's to the complicated life." She said raising her near-empty glass to mine, and after she'd finished it off, she raised her arm, signaling dear old Tom we were ready for our next round.

Four (or seven) additional drinks later, we were talking about God only knows what, when the conversation somehow turned to exotic drinks. I'll admit I was feeling a little buzzed, so when she started talking about some Chi Chi she'd shared with Mariah, I couldn't help but mention a tasty little drink I'd tried a few months ago.

"Purple nurples?" She laughed. "Oh, that's it! Tom!"

"What? What? What are you doing?"

That wasn't a stutter, and I wasn't that wasted—yet. Just unusually light-headed. I'd said, 'What-what-what?' quickly, and nervously. I didn't know what she was doing, and okay, maybe I was a little drunk. Not because I was a lightweight, or anything—Someone had slipped me a little something to get my guard down, but I'll get into that later.

"No, you need to try this. This guy makes the best Purple Nurples." She giggled, then hollered for Tom again.

I felt a little better knowing I wasn't the only one letting loose, so I gave in and had a couple of those nurples. I say 'a couple' because after the first three, I lost count, and after that the night was pretty much a blur to me. But I do remember a few things.

Kiers had been on a strict diet of watermelon martinis, so I hadn't been able to convince her to switch over. And that was it

Really, I mean it. That was it.

No bar fights, no confusing inanimate objects with people, and definitely no karaoke.

Yep. That was it.

Fine. I'll tell. But only because during this intoxicated blur, I had one of those majorly heroic moments. You know? The story just wouldn't be complete without it. Not to mention I really need brownie points for the things to come. (But, again, that part's for later.)

It all started when this one song started playing. Kiersa and I had been talking about traveling, or maybe we were talking about giant eating utensils, I can't really remember which, but this song started playing. I noticed she was really enjoying it, so I had to tease her about it. The singer sounded like nails on a chalk board to me—totally ruined the song, the mood, the conversation, everything.

I eventually found out that after 10PM, Elmore's turned into a karaoke bar. Small town, should have figured, right? Well, that guy kept singing about holding his hand, and I kept complaining about it until Kiers finally dared me to prove I was better. (Not the heroic moment I was talking about, FYI)

A few nurples later, I'd reluctantly accepted the challenge, stood up in front of the remaining crowd, of 21 people. I should probably mention the kicker, though—I had to sing my song to Mariah, or at least pick a song I'd sing to her. The selection was rough, but it wound up being a three way tie between "When A Man Loves A Woman," "Stand By Me," and "I Wanna Dance With Somebody."

To save my pride, I'll leave the choice up to your imagination, but let's just say (big hint) my motive was Temptation.

Well, the music started, and I eventually caught up with the little words that were flashing on the screen in front of me. From what I remember, I think Kiersa looked impressed, but it was honestly hard to tell—she was sitting in the back corner of the bar, remember? Dark, dark corner.

Out of no where, this big bulky guy walks over to her. I think I finished singing, but it was hard to follow those damn words and keep an eye on her, you know? When I'd gotten back to the table, I could tell there was a history. It was total tension.

"Hey, buddy. There a problem here?" I asked. I'd managed to sound sober enough to kick the guy's ass, so that was good.

"I'm sorry, who are you?"

"Nick, this is Dean. Dean, Nick." She was hesitant with her introduction. I smiled politely, not that I wanted to.

He ignored me entirely.

"Mariah hasn't been returning my calls."

"Well, that usually comes along with the whole 'being dumped' thing, but none of us expected you'd figure that out."

"You still didn't answer my question."

"That's because you didn't ask a question. You stated the obvious, proving, once again, your ignorance." She rolled her eyes.

He turned to me, and laughed."How can you stand dating her?"

In that moment, I saw in her eyes that she was dying to say something, and I had a good feeling I knew what it was. But she held back, probably didn't want to drag me into it.

I jumped right in anyway.

"Actually, I'm not dating her, I'm dating her sister." I grinned. Kiersa did too. What a blow!

If you could have seen his face!

He had it coming though; he just had that total-ass vibe. I couldn't imagine what Mariah had seen in him.

Nick turned to Kiers confused, and she just shrugged. "I told you she moved on. What do you think I meant? Oh. Wait. See, 'think', that's your problem. Forget I asked."

He laughed, angrily this time, and I swear to God he looked about ready to hit her.

I was just glad I was on her side of the whole mess, because the way I was feeling, and the way she kept talking smack… I don't know what would have happened had I not been there to impress her.

I felt a strange madness inside me.

I hadn't realized that was the way she'd been talking to me since we'd met— blunt and with bite—if words were daggers, well, you get the picture. I also had a feeling that she'd been tearing into this guy since before I'd finished my song, and even though I was pretty sure she could have taken care of herself, I wasn't going to let her prove it. Not tonight.

He raised his fist, pointed his fat finger in her face, and that was it. Before he knew what had even happened, I had his face on the bar, and his arm behind his back. "That wasn't very nice, now was it?"

Kiers laughed—might have taken her by surprise too. We were all surprised, really.

I was just glad the room wasn't spinning.

"That was a question, Ron." I hollered, waiting for his answer.

"Nick," He grunted. I just laughed.

"Oh, whatever. Apologize to the lady."

He did, I let him up, and voila: instant bar fight.

I don't remember going at it, getting kicked out, or even yelling at a broomstick, but I think I won. Both fights. I remember Kiers laughing the whole way home. Her telling me I couldn't drive my own car because I was too drunk. Me arguing with her about 'her' being too drunk too, and that if anyone was going to smash the Impala, it had to be me, until she eventually broke down and told me she had been drinking vitamin water all night.

I remember wobbling up to the motel and spending a few minutes banging on the wrong door until Sammy popped his head out a few rooms over and called me, and I think I even remember him and Kiers sharing one of those magical smiley moments, but, then again, that might have been one of those bushes.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Stand in Girl -** I appreciate the honesty. You are definitely right, it's a little too much too fast. It is an obsession, and there really is no viable reasoning behind it. It gets worse, too--borderline midlife crisis--but__ I CAN assure you now, every single iffy thing down the road is purely temporary. _

_It's hard to go so far back, now that season 3 is underway, but my train of thought was season 2. Dad dies for Dean, leaving him facing the fact he might have to kill Sam.__ "Playthings", Sam gets drunk and makes him promise he'll do it, should the need arise. Croatoan has them both on egg shells--he even gave away the Impala, at one point, and between Gordon and the Meg's demon posession, well, he just wanted "out" and that was really the mentality I was using when I started this. (Shows up much better later on. Still, and again, thanks for sticking it out past the iffy dodgey parts ;)_

_**FeistyFeral** - Sorry if chapter 6 threw you off. I really just wanted him to go 'all out' with his impression (a cute, desperate Dean, for kicks) but I'm glad the second part got you laughin' out loud. I especially love that you caught the dishes thing, the repetition really seems to be working in my favor. I'm a big fan of carry-overs, though. It just doesn't happen enough nowadays.  
_

_**laugh and love** -Sorry to hear about your 'puter. I just so happen to fix them, so if it's anything more serious than a problem with your ISP or connection, let me know. Might be able to help you out. I'm so glad you saw some classic Dean behind chapter 7, I was afraid I was pushing it. But it brought a lot of laughs, so I'm pleased. _

_**Silverbullet** - Can I call you that for short? If not I'll spell it out entirely. Either way, I hear the gallows music a-playin' ..Kidding, but I am pretty nervous now that you've reviewed. I remember checking out your profile when you subscribed or whatever, and I sort of hoped you'd forget about this story. Seems to be to your liking, but like I told everyone else, no guarantees. I can tell you, they don't live perfect, happily-ever-after lives with their wives and many children, and that I will never, ever write the phrase "OMG" as used in the giddy cheerleader-teen context. (Unless, of course, Dean is paraphrasing for Sam, like in Tall Tales, then all deals are off... I'm kidding again, though I could see it happening.) Seriously, though, I'm glad you're enjoying it. Let me know if anything needs clarification, even from the earlier chapters. Sometimes the things I mean to write don't pull through the way I think they do. So, again, any questions, just ask'm. _

* * *

After a night of nightmares, I woke up the next morning with a killer hangover. Yet, the only thing more annoying than that, was my brother. 

I'm usually pretty good with ignoring his little hissy-fits, but I just wasn't in the mood to, that day.

"You have a good time, last night?"

Sure. He asked innocently enough, but I knew he was mad. And, no, I wasn't just being paranoid. So what if he was smiling and pretending he didn't mind—my hunch told me otherwise.

I mean, why would he genuinely care if I had a good time or not? There had to have been a reason behind him asking, so I grumbled back. "Why?"

"No reason. I was just curious." He whined. Yeah right, he was 'just' curious.

He must have picked up on my skeptical vibe, because he suddenly lost all interest in the subject.

"Never mind. Forget I asked. …What happened to your face, or is that information classified too?"

"Cool it, Sammy. Yeah." I said squeezing my forehead. "Yeah, I had a good time."

He sorta just laughed at me. I don't think he believed me, or something. "What I remember, of it, anyway. I think I have another date."

"So you two hit it off? Congratulations."

He wasn't completely sure he should be happy for me, but he said it anyway. I'd almost forgotten about the little prank I'd pulled, so I finally told him the truth.

"Naw, man. With her sister."

"What?" He was floored. I guess I should have clarified.

"I can't believe you, Dean, you just took the breaking-hearts thing to a whole new level. I mean, were you even listening to anything I said yesterday?"

I just laughed, my head still hurt, and I really didn't want to argue. "It's not what you think. Trust me."

"Oh really? Then please. Do explain."

"All right, look. Kiers only asked me out to make sure I was good enough for her sister. A trial date, thing."

"A trial date thing?"

"Yeah. Sam, ..where is my car?"

"A trial date thing?" He repeated.

"Yeah…!"

That was annoying. I'd already answered his question, and he totally avoided mine. Plus, my God damn car was gone. I asked again, as calmly as I could without flipping my lid. "Sam. Where. Is. My. Car?"

He did one of those nervous little side smile things and looked away; instantly, I knew. I couldn't believe it.

"You let her take the Impala?"

He continued staring away at the wall; he wasn't going to answer my question until after I'd answered his.

"YES!" I laughed as if I'd lost my mind. "A trial date thing!! She couldn't get rid of me, so she agreed to go on a date, to see how I'd act, and how I would treat her sister, in the event she ever let me NEAR her! I think it worked, because there was a lot of laughing, drinking and even though there was a massive bar fight, which explains the bruising, she brought me here, NOT to a jail cell, which leads me to believe that I didn't make a TOTAL ass of myself, and I got the date WITH Mariah, so where is my damn car???"

After my long-winded, and possibly childish, rambling explanation of a 'trial date thing', and a deep breath, Sam spent a minute shaking his head—trying to conjure up a response until he just spat one out. I suppose it was an OK excuse, but from where I was standing, nothing was good enough. There had been absolutely no reason for her to take my car, and that was final. Not 'she had to get to work,' or 'there was an emergency.' Hell, not even aliens!

I kept staring at him, eyes raging, steam… steaming. He had to say something, and of course he was all defensive about it.

"What was I supposed to do? Let her walk home?"

"YES!!"

Duh!!!

"Dean, it was late. You were drunk. She had to get home. I let her take the Impala. I'm sure. No, wait, I'm entirely positive that she didn't orchestrate the entire night just to steal your car."

"Oh really?"

Sam just laughed again.

I guess it did sound a bit crazy, and irrational. I mean, why go through all the trouble of luring us out here, getting me to have feelings for her sister to the point where I stalk the two of them, make me convince her to do the whole 'trial date thing,' plus get all her friends to play along, AND hire a crazy ex-boyfriend type guy? Please! Like I'd fall for that anyway—I'm not THAT stupid.

"Okay, genius." I laughed, "Why didn't you drive her home?"

"Well," He smiled. I knew I was in for an earful. "I guess that depends on which reason you wanna hear."

"All of them." I smiled back my 'try me' smile.

"Fine." He snorted. Took a breath, got himself in that noble 'prepare yourself, Dean' stance, and started without a second thought. "Reason number one: under the assumption you'd just been out on a great date with her, the girl -I- liked, it would have been weird. Two: You trusted her enough to let her drive you here, so I figured it wouldn't be that big a deal. Three: I was a little preoccupied keeping you from running around screaming 'demons! demons!', waking up motel guests, not to mention scaring them to death… Four: Someone had to make sure that you, dead-set on burning the place to the ground, didn't succeed in doing so."

"All right," I laughed, hoping to hide the fact I didn't really want to know what else had happened. "All right. I get it."

"Five: I was a little embarrassed." He continued. God, was he thick-headed. I wanted him to shut up.

"Okay. Sam. I got'cha. Really. I do."

Well, what happened next was his own fault. While he was rambling on and on, reason after reason—everything from me jumping out the back window to him claiming I'd been adopted, I knew there was only one way to end it.

"She kissed me."

"What?"

Although I vaguely remembered a minute or two of close-contact, I had lied. But only to get his attention, and he bought it. I'm pretty sure I had just broken his heart, and for some reason, it felt good. Real good; I couldn't describe it. I couldn't stop it.

I had to keep him going.

"I shouldn't have…" I played my best apology card. "I know it was wrong."

"No. Uh, It's okay."

"I think it was those damn martini's talking. You know?"

"You said she was drinking vitamin water?"

"I did?" I thought about that for a minute, and since I couldn't really remember the conversation I'd had with him last night, I knew I couldn't deny it.

"Yeah… I don't know, man. Mixed signals." I shook my head and shrugged.

"It's cool. It's fine. Yeah. Hey. No big deal." He shrugged too.

God, he was pathetic.

I mean, if I was him, I would have kicked my ass by now—if that makes sense. I couldn't believe he'd just roll over like that. I couldn't believe I was doing this to him either, but, like I said, I couldn't stop it. It was just in me. Burning.

"So," I bit my lip and scratched my chin, thinking of ways to change the conversation before he could call my bluff. "I really wanted to torch the place, huh?"

"Yeah," He laughed, not at all interested in talking, or even looking at me. He was just talking to be polite.

"Demons?" I asked confused.

I wondered if maybe they hadn't been dreams after all. I hoped it too. At least then I'd have a legitimate reason to stick around. I mean, Mariah was reason enough for me, not that I'd ever admit it. There was just something about that girl, I didn't know what, but I had to have her. Maybe I just wanted to prove Sam's little theory wrong, or maybe I wanted her so bad because, no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't get her. Wouldn't be the first time, but at least I can admit I'm as stubborn as they come.

"Yeah," Sam shook his head and was suddenly interested in the conversation again. I wished he'd just let it drop, though, I really didn't want to talk to him any more. "it's weird. Dean, I was here all night, and I kept getting these …vibes … Like maybe something was here, waiting. Watching me. I don't know. You don't think... I mean, what are the odds that there'd be something in this town?"

"I don't know, Sam." I smiled. A part of me felt missing, and it was the same part of me that got my heart racing every time Sam was in trouble. Normally, see, I'd worry if I ever knew he was feeling uneasy. Sure, I might laugh at him, call him a girl, or find some other way to make fun of him, but a part of me would worry too. Not now. Now, I just kept smiling, like some dumb fool, as my reply spilled out of me like… one of those morons from an old-fashioned, poorly scripted sitcom.

"But I'm sure we'll find out." I laughed with a nod of my head. "Let's just hope we get my-wheels back sometime today, huh? Otherwise, the world may never know…"

And, just like that, my mind turned off. Skipped like a record. My quote, echoing in my mind. Not sure where I picked it up from, but it seemed appropriate. 'The world may never know.' I kinda like that. ..The world MAY never know some of the things Sammy and I know, and unless I finish this story, well, I'm not sure the world would understand either. Kiersa? I'm pretty sure she'd understand anything, and I was hoping her sister would too, but I wasn't ready to chance it—which is why I was glad to see only Kiers pull up in her black pickup.


	9. Chapter 9

Another interesting week here— has anyone else having problems accessing this site? Off and on? Randomly? Anyway, between that, nearly breaking my fingers, and being swamped with homework, this post has been drastically delayed. Sorry 'bout that ;)

Seems like readers are disappearing—hope I didn't drop the ball—but I did warn you. There are a few reviews, so it must not have been 'that' bad. Anyway, thanks for the feedback laughandlove SikemiNatural .

* * *

Have to give credit where credit is due, I suppose. 

Even if Kiers had been my least favorite person in the world at that point (second, if you counted my nag-brother) she was still reliable. Been at the motel by 8:30; picked me up to drive me back to her place. To get my car.

Still, I couldn't help but hope something more might happen.

We'd had a pretty good time together, so I was positive I'd already passed her inspection. Maybe she was planning on inviting me in. I'd get to see Mariah, and the three of us could have coffee together. ...Just had to get rid of Sam, first. You know what they say about the third wheel.

Well, I guess he'd technically be more of a fourth wheel, in this case, but the number really wasn't the issue. I knew he'd tag along, if he could, and if he did, he'd ruin things one way, or another. I guess I figured that he'd figure out I'd been lying earlier, about Kiersa. He'd have a huge fit, or something. Make me look like a jerk, and, like I said, ruin everything. I couldn't let that happen.

So, to get rid of him? I knew that if I could keep up the tension, he'd want to stay at the motel. Had to choose my words carefully, though. They had to be perfect. Enough to convince Sam I hadn't been lying earlier, but covert enough as to keep Kiers in the dark.

"Hey, Kiers." I smiled, as she hopped out of her truck. I scratched my head, and looked to the ground—Avoiding eye contact, as if I'd been guilty of something. "About last night. I'm sorry. I was out of line."

She just smiled back, clueless. Probably thought I was apologizing for being drunk. Or something stupid like that. "No. It's okay. I—I shouldn't have led you the way I did."

Boy, was that the truth.

That girl had me doing things I _never_ would have done—karaoke? Purple Nurples? Bar fights?

Okay, so I might have done them all on my own anyway, but that's not the point. The point is, is that it was just the sort of thing Sam needed to hear. To get rid of him, I mean. Saw the poor kid's face drop as he tried to figure it out._ 'I shouldn't have led you the way I did?'_ Was that incriminating, or what??

"Anyway," She laughed. "You'll be happy to know I didn't do too much damage to the car, last night. Come'on, I'll drop you off at the house."

Her head tilted towards her truck, but I didn't move.

"It was joke." She clarified, "The whole damaged-car thing? I was kidding. It's fine, the car, really. Not a scratch."

I smiled.

Hadn't heard the Impala comment, I'd just been staring off into space. Didn't know what was with me—I was just distant. Distant and mean. When Kiers had asked if Sam was coming with us, I just laughed. He had declined long before I realized my response was inappropriate, but I was able to avoid looking like a jerk by joking, "He doesn't get out much."

We left.

Not two minutes into the ride, she broke the silence. "What's up with your brother?"

I didn't know what she meant by it, so I ignored her. She didn't shut up there, though. She just kept talking.

"From the way you described him last night, I don't know. He just seems depressed, or something."

"Ah, well, that's Sammy. He tends to be a little over-emotional, at times."

He's a real girl—is what I wanted to tell her, but I came to the realization that that kind of insensitivity would have probably gotten me kicked out of her car—moving or not.

"Oh." She paused. "Okay..."

I wondered if I had really made him out to be the happy-go-lucky type, but I honestly couldn't remember even talking about him. Kiers just licked her lips and kept driving.

I knew she wanted more information, I could just tell. But I also knew she'd never ask. She was too polite. Too good to snoop. I almost felt better, now that I was out. Away from the motel. Away from my brother. I guess I even felt a little bad for being so rude about things, not that she seemed to notice. I shook my head.

"Sam's, uh. He's getting over something horrible. ...I probably shouldn't tell you this."

"Then you don't have to." She shook her head—what was with her? One minute she wants to know, the next she doesn't? One minute happy, and the next she's biting my head off. I don't get women—her especially.

"Seriously, Dean. If I'm not meant to know, then I'm not meant to know. I'm okay with that."

"Naw, don't worry about it. It's just ...complicated," I settled for the same word she'd settled on back at the bar. It fit. "Really complicated, that's all. See, he seems to have this bad luck when it comes to women. His first big-love died in a fire. And since then, it's just been hard—because of, uh, us traveling so much. Well a few broken hearts later, leads him to this last chick he really liked. But she turned out to be a werewolf."

I said I'd be honest, remember? No lies. No secrets. All truth. Still can't believe I said it, though. It just came out.

"A werewolf?"

She looked at me to make sure I wasn't mocking her, but I just shrugged as if I'd said she had brown hair or a nice… car.

"Okay." She still sounded a little skeptical. "So, …a werewolf. What happened?"

"Well, he killed her." I laughed. "Isn't that obvious?"

"Oh."

Again, she sort of bit her tongue. I could tell that last part really creeped her out, I mean, it must be a little weird finding out someone you like is a homicidal maniac. Not that Sam was a homicidal maniac, or anything, but I'm sure it must have sounded that way ...To an outsider.

"Well. If it's any consolation, what-so-ever, she asked him to do it." I murmured, just a tad unsure of why I was still 'inside' the moving truck.

"Hey, look, I told you. Strange things happen to us all the time."

"I didn't say anything." Her head shook defensively.

"No, but you're thinking it." I snapped. "I mean, aren't you? Come on. Here I am, telling you my brother's a murderer and that the world is full of creepy bad-ass monsters that nightmares are made of. And, what? Huh? You're just gonna sit there and pretend that you don't care? Tell me you already knew it, or what? It's okay? You can laugh. Call me a liar, heck say something!"

We pulled up to the house and she put her truck in park. Took out her keys and just sat there.

I hadn't realized the drive was so short—it seemed to take forever when I was driving with Sam. (And, yes, she could have definitely walked home.)

"I don't think this is going to work." She finally said; I was shocked.

"What?"

Weren't we just joking a minute ago? Was this girl Schitzo or something?

"I don't want to see you around here anymore, Dean. You or Sam."

"I don't understand." I told her, and that was the truth.

Sure, I dropped the demon bomb, got a little carried away with the drinks last night, and maybe I shouldn't have mentioned Sam had killed his last girlfriend, but why was she doing this to me? Had this been the plan all along? Tricking me into believing I was getting somewhere, just to get rid of me?

She just laughed. "I'm not stupid. Mariah's not stupid. Your life is obviously… VERY different, and my sister not what you're looking for. She's not a one-night stand, so let's face it. It just won't work. I'm sorry."

Okay, so Sam was a frickin genius, but, hello? He's psychic, remember? Isn't that cheating? He must have known the whole time—you think he would have told me not to waste my time.

I don't know. Maybe he'd tried. Or maybe he'd been playing me just as much as I'd been playing him. All I knew for sure was that I had to get out of there.

She tossed me my key, and I left.

Nothing else was said.


	10. Chapter 10

Wow, another delayed chapter. But I warned you, have to have it perfected before posting... This one was hard because it deals with Dean's.. well, you'll see. Very nervous about this chapter, but we'll see what you think.

**Sike -** Can I call you that? Or Sik? I can never remember how to spell your name, and I don't want to get it wrong. Nonetheless, it's an interesting name, what does it mean? Thanks for reading, though! I promise to be less dishearted by lack of reviews. Two's better than none, after all.

**laughandlove - ** How right you are about Dean's determination... I think I'll leave it at that, because I don't want to ruin all the fun. But, yeah, that statement is definitely proved in this chapter... :) Thanks for the review!

By the way, can anyone tell me who keeps stealing all my symbols? It's driving me crazy they just "disappear". Someone must have abused them :(

* * *

I did nothing the rest of the day, and night, for that matter. Just some driving and a lot of thinking. 

It wasn't like there was much else I could do, anyway. I had no where to go. The only decent places in town were reminders of my misery, and I couldn't go back to the motel because I couldn't face Sammy. He'd just make things worse by giving me that "I told you so" speech he'd been planning since day one. And, of course, that would be only 'after' he'd spent hours complaining about how I'd abandoned him yet again. So yeah, I avoided him like the plague.

Had to settle for a six pack and the hood of my car, which wasn't bad, but, like I said, I couldn't stop thinking. I thought about what my brother had said, again. And about what Kiersa had said too.

Maybe they were right after all. The two of them.

Maybe I was a one-night-stand kind of guy. Big deal. Right? Who was I trying to kid, anyway? So what if we couldn't settle down, fall in love, or have a family. All that Hallmark crap is overrated. I mean, Sammy and I were living proof of how 'well' it worked out for our parents. I doubt they got married thinking, "Hey, we'll have a couple of good years before some crazy shit happens and ruins our lives."

It's strange; I never really thought about it until that moment. Mom and Dad. Being in love. Being normal. And Happy.

Once upon a time, I guess.

It had honestly been so long ago, I could hardly picture it. And, now, to think that after all we've been through, after all we've seen and done, we could just pack up and go back?

Impossible.

Besides, I've seen the movies. It never works.

There is always something that happens to ruin it. That crazy shit follows you, no matter how far you run or where you hide; there's just no escaping it.

It was all for the best, though. I never pictured myself as family guy, anyway. I'm not even sure I'd know how to be one, which made me wonder where Sammy got it from. Why 'did' he want to be normal? And why didn't I?

Maybe it was something I'd thought about once or twice. After Dad died, I could have walked away easy. Should have. Probably would have, too, if I had known what was waiting just down the road. I mean, that whole demon possessing Sam thing? Worst day of my damn life, when I woke up and he was missing... Heard Dad's words ...screaming in my head. I thought it was over, and I just knew it was my fault. I'd failed.

Meg. That bitch. I swear, if I ever see that blond again. .. I don't even know what I'd do.

Still, even before that, I think I'd been ready to throw in the towel. Dad's death had been the last straw, and there's not a doubt in my mind that I'd give up hunting to keep Sam safe. That's normal, ain't it?

He's all I've got left.

I don't know, maybe I was just getting too old for all of it—I can't imagine how Dad managed all those years. But I knew one thing for sure and that was I didn't want to be like him; I think that was normal too. 

That night, I'd made up my mind. I wanted to prove them all wrong. Dad. The demons. Kiersa—and Sammy too. We could be normal, or, we could at least try.


	11. Chapter 11

So Dean doesn't like witches.. bummer! Oh well, missed that memo. Was anyone else getting the 'Ruby was Mary' vibe, or was that just me? Hope not, but I'm still trying to figure out how she knew YED.. Anyway, great episode. Next week looks pretty good too, but if you start to suspect I'm stealing scripts, remember I wrote this way back when. 

In case you missed the warning to Stand-in-girl, Dean's about to get.. 'spontaneous'. You're either cringing, rolling your eyes, or smiling in curiosity, but whatever reaction, I hope these next two chapters don't scare you guys away. This change is purely temporary. In a few posts' time, he'll be back to his usual self. No foreshadowing there, I ..promise :P

laughandlove - Dean is a fun character to explore, and writing from his POV is just plain fun. I've worked hard trying to get into his head, so I really appreciate that last review. And, wow, another favorite chapter? I must be doing something right, because that's two :) I hope i can keep them coming.

Shaz - A scream? I'm so honored. I'll be honest, I'm just as addicted to the feedback. I do a happy little jittery dance when read the reviews.. Well, anyway, I hope this chapter answers your questions :)

Enjoy!

* * *

I didn't know what time I'd gotten back to the motel, and I didn't care to know either. I just got back when I did, and that was that. End of story, no questions asked. 

Seriously. I'm not kidding—I was surprised too.

Sam was unusually antisocial, for Sam, at least. He really didn't seem to care much about anything. Me ditching him again, me ignoring his calls all day, or even me being back. It was great. He just sat on his bed. Quiet. It was weird. I mean, usually he'd... Well, it's not really important, and I'm sure you got the picture by now. He's a killjoy. But, tonight, he let me be, which was nice.

He did try to get inside my head a few times, though. Stared at me. Asked me how my day was or if I was ready to leave town yet. Don't know what I had said in return, because I really wasn't paying much attention to him in the first place. I'm not even sure if those were the questions he'd asked, but they do seem to be very Sam-like questions, so he must have asked them at some point—right?

Well, he must have caught on, because he eventually stopped trying. That was good too, because I had bigger things on my mind. Important things. The same stuff I'd been thinking about all night. I hadn't changed my mind, I'd convinced myself. I was done.

Hunting—not thinking, obviously. I couldn't stop thinking, especially not now—when so much planning had to be done. I was convinced I was ready to quit hunting. Once and for all, and that that night was to be the last night I would ever spend on a motel bed. I realized that it was an unrealistic thought. I mean, I couldn't just snap my fingers and have a place to call home, I knew that. I also knew that I couldn't really guarantee the motel bed thing—I can't even guarantee what socks I'll be wearing tomorrow, or even if I'd have socks tomorrow—how can I say I'd never sleep in a motel again?

Still, it was the idea behind it—the idea that we'd stop demon hunting and start house-hunting, or something.

Damn I needed another beer. What was I thinking?

Demons. Hunting. Could I really walk away? Could Sam? He hadn't been willing to before, why would he be now? He'd just say we were responsible, for everything. I was sick and tired of it. I told him that before, I think, but man was I sick of it now.

"The world may never know." I said aloud.

Sam looked at me from across the room. I was surprised he was still awake. "What?"

"The world may never know… Who wrote that? Hemmingway? Or something?"

"Not quite." He said sounding amused.

I just snapped. "What??"

"Hemmingway?" He shook his head, "Dean? That's the logo for the Tootsie pop?"

"No its not!" I laughed, but he just laughed right back at me. Like I'd lost my mind.

"Yeah, it is." He laughed again. "How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie pop?"

His voice then changed. Intentionally, I think, as he counted to three. He must have been mocking me, because he was trying to sound all noble and sophisticated.

Just sounded stupid to me.

"Three? That's it?" I snorted.

He just shook his head. Did I miss something?

"Sam, it takes more than three licks, okay? It just has to."

"Forget it, Dean."

"No, seriously. Is that really possible? Aren't those those big suckers? The ones with the candy in the middle? Three licks? That's it?"

"That's the point!! 'The world may never know!' The owl bites it after the third lick—'how many licks—the world may never know'."

"Dude, are you sure? Wasn't it Shakesbeer?" I grinned, but he just stopped talking to me at that point.

Either he was too tired to argue, or I was too drunk to argue with, but whatever his problem was I didn't care.

We were staying in town, because I was determined to find out three things: whether or not the two of us could really settle down, who'd written the mysterious proverb, and how many licks it really did take to get that damn candy.


	12. Chapter 12

No, you aren't seeing things. It's 2 for 1 night! Woot!

Anyway, I feel awful. The last two chapters were actually supposed to be one, but I really liked the "we could try to be normal" ending, so I split them up. Here is a little something to make up for that, but it might be the end of me for a while. Really should do some homework tonight. :(

Shaz- I danced. Still dancing, actually. Wasn't expecting to hear back from anyone until tomorrow. The Ruby/Mary, I really hope they don't try it out, (Not that I wouldn't mind securing the boy's singleness; we know they wouldn't date their mom.) but you can tell there is a big secret there. Something more than the "Oh I'm a good demon" It's all to cliche, if you ask me. I hope she's the next big bad. That would rock.

laughandlove - Can't wait to hear from ya. Hope you like this chapter as much as I think you will :)

* * *

I woke up early the next morning and snuck out before Sam could object. Had my mind set on that happy ending, and I wasn't planning on settling for anything less. Unfortunately, though, none of it was as easy as I thought it would be. 

Sam and I needed a real place to stay, and the fact that neither of us had any sort of income posed a problem.

I took out a cash advance on one of our newer credit cards and found a nice little place a few towns over. It wasn't the greatest looking shack—shack being the keyword, because there was certainly room for improvement—if you know what I'm saying, but the market was good and it was dirt cheap. Apparently not many people rent around these parts, so for the price of a three-week cheap-motel stay, we had a place to call home. At least for a month or two. It was a fair exchange, but I still needed to find a way to solve our money problem.

It was easy enough to run our credit card schemes on the road, but if we were settling down, I knew they'd catch on eventually. However, to get a job, one needs a resume, and resumes are not something I can forge. None of my interviews went well, but one guy said he'd call me back. I think maybe his name was Ron.

I couldn't wait to tell Sam—to see the look on his face. He'd tell me I was insane, and we'd yell a lot. He'd be mad for weeks… no, maybe about a year, but he'd eventually give in and appreciate the gesture. He'd thank me for this later.

Everything was going great, but I guess I was starting to feel bad about how I'd treated Sam. I'd really been an ass. Ditching him, teasing him, making him miserable. I had to make it up to him, and I knew just how to do it too. I just had to find Mariah.

Just for the record, I realize, now, that my entire plan was crap, and though I wished I'd figured that out sooner, there isn't much I can actually do about it now. So, whatever. It happened, and I just have to deal with it. Anyway, during my drive, and as I was plotting my 'master plan', a small shop caught my eye. It was a music store, and that's really when everything fell into place.

What do you get a girl who doesn't like flowers? Music! It was a no brainer.

All I had to do was buy Mariah a CD. I'd have an excuse to talk to her. And, if I could talk to her, she'd see that I was irresistible. However, there was still a slight problem, and that was the fact that I still knew absolutely nothing about this girl. I didn't worry too much about that, though, and I decided to buy her one of my favorite albums. If she was as perfect as I knew she was, she'd love it.

Turns out, though, I wasn't even in the right TYPE music store. The old-fashion wooden sign should have gave it away, but who notices those things anyway? Small town—should have figured. Well, I walked in to that little shop and found all sorts of instruments hanging from the ceiling, and the walls—piled up on shelves, and piled up on other instruments. It was like walking into an eerie, old, dusty, magic store, but something told me to stick around.

I figured I could at least ask if they sold any real 'music' in their music store, but no one was there to ask. I snooped around for a few minutes, made my way out back, and that's when I heard someone.

"So, Amber told me I missed a good time the other day. Yeah? Oh no. No. Okay. I will. Oh, hey. I think someone's here. Got to go. Call you back. K. Later."

I stopped my eavesdropping, ran to the counter and grabbed the first thing I could grab. To continue playing the part, I let myself bounce a little—as if I was impatiently waiting for the cashier.

"Can I help you?"

I nearly died. It was her. Mariah. I couldn't believe it, and she looked as shocked to see me, as I felt seeing her.

"So this is where you've been hiding?"

"No... This is where I've been working? Why are you here?"

"I was, uh, buying this." I held up the small piece I had in my hand and smiled.

"A drone reed?"

"Uh, Yeah."

"You play the bagpipe?"

"Uh…Naww, not me. Sam!"

"Sam plays the bagpipe?"

I just smiled. "Yeah. Can't get him to stop. Had to throw the damn thing out of the car, now he's mad that I broke his… uh,"

"Drone Reed?"

"Yeah. That's it." I agreed, but she wasn't buying it. Her confused smile turned to shock, pretty much the way Kiers's had when I'd followed her into the sub shop.

"You 'are' following us, aren't you?" She shook her head, in disbelief, and I shook mine in fear. Didn't want her to call the cops.

"NO!" I laughed, "No.. Okay, not really, but maybe a little. This—" I laughed again, making circles in the air with my fingers, "this is a coincidence—I wasn't, it's not. I didn't know you worked here?" I smiled again, genuinely surprised.

"Then what are you doing here, Dean?" She crossed her arms and sighed.

"Do you really want to know?" I grinned my most-charming grin, but she just looked back at me with her business face.

"I asked, didn't I?"

"Okay. I've been real crappy to my brother, and I know that seeing your sister would cheer him up, so I wanted to buy YOU a CD or something to make up for the whole, awkward, bedroom thing, so that we could put the whole stalker thing behind us and, maybe hook up? Sometime?"

Probably should have put my foot in my mouth. Oh, and might I repeat, I realize the plan was crap. It was just too late to do anything about it.

Mariah rolled her eyes at me, but she really didn't seem disgusted. In fact, she seemed curious.

"Are you asking me out, or are you asking me to ask my sister out for your brother?"

"A little of both?"

She nodded and smiled, and I could tell she was hooked. All I needed was to reel her in. This here was proof that I'd been right back at the diner—about me being her type, and her being single. I was grinning from ear to ear as she stood there, trying to think of what to say.

"So, is that a… yes? Come on, one date. Hey, not even a date. Just one… meeting, and you can tell me all about drone …sticks."

She laughed and shook her head. "I can't, Dean."

"Please? Pretty, pretty please?"

Had I really just stooped to the sugar-on-top approach? Whatever, it was working.

"If you tell me what you were doing in my sister's bedroom."

I just grinned. "I'll tell you anything you want to know—IF you come to lunch with me. Deal?"

"Depends. Are you gonna have enough money after you pay for your brothers reed?"

"My brother's what? Oh, right. I guess you'll have to come and find out."

"Okay," she smiled, reluctantly. "I get off shift in twenty minutes."

I laughed. "How many customers are you really going to have in the next twenty minutes?"

My smile seemed to seal the deal, and as the register ching-ed, so did my heart. I only wish I knew a good place to eat—preferably, one Kiersa did not work for.


	13. Chapter 13

Well, as you can tell, my photoshopping skills are a little rusty, but I hope everyone got and enjoyed that "no-longer-mental" image of Sam playing the bagpipe! (See the perks of being an active reader? I think I sent it to everyone, but speak up if I missed you ) Anyway--sorry for the delay in posting. I'm just being extra careful with my posts now that I'm halfway through what I have written. Also, in regards to the plot (remember I _did_ say there was an actual plot), there are only a few 'cutesy' chapters to go...

laughandlove, is it Laurie? (Loved the blog--batman video rocks--right up there with the drinking game videos..) Well, you have 'me' laughing out loud because of the lolly pop thing. Who'd a thunk someone who'd tried it would find this story? I've yet to attempt it, but I did know someone who had about a thousand licks. Still, I will keep your number in mind :)

feisty - I would love to dress up as some guy named Ron and surprise you. I'll bring a name tag and everything. That's just awesome. Anyway, only Jared could pull off the kilt. Glad you enjoyed that last chapter--hope your studies are going better than mine! 

Shaz- I'll take young and happy any day. I'm old. Or at least that's what my new beta keeps telling me (sigh) Speaking of bagpipes, you were last to review... did you get it? Let me know, I'll send it your way if I haven't yet.

* * *

I'd done it—the impossible. I felt myself soaring, and everything evil inside me seemed to die. 

So what if I wasn't 100 percent there yet—I'd still gotten a pretty good start. Hadn't I? The apartment, the girl, the job—still in question—but all in under five hours? Things were looking pretty good, and they only got better.

Mariah was everything I'd expected and more. It was a great date, and, to my surprise, she never once brought up the bedroom thing. She called a friend to cancel her ride home and showed me her favorite takeout restaurant. I took her back to 'my' place, where, I swear, nothing funky happened. (Remember, I was doing things right this time--trying to prove Sam wrong? ) Well, even if you don't believe me when I say, "we just ate, laughed, flirted, and joked around like we'd known each other forever," that's all that happened.

"So where's all your stuff? It looks like you haven't even moved in." She laughed, brushing back strands of hair and tucking them away behind her ear.

There I sat with the girl I liked, the girl who liked me back. All she wanted was to know a little more about me, and I couldn't bring myself to tell her. Even though I'd promised myself that I would be honest, that I would tell her everything, I just couldn't.

Seriously, what a loaded question. I mean, I know how small towns work; everybody talks. It was obvious I was new to town, so what did she expect?

"That's because I haven't. Just got the place today."

Only after I said it did I realize how stupid it sounded. But even saying that was hard. It wasn't like it had been when I'd told Kiersa. I guess that's because Kiersa didn't really matter to me. Mariah did. Still, I knew I owed her a better explanation, and so I tried to at least be honest there. "Sister said I couldn't see you since I wasn't planning on sticking around—so I found a place to stick, and I'm sticking."

Mariah looked away, shook her head a bit, and laughed. "Yeah... I'm sorry. She can be a real jerk sometimes."

"Hey, no problem.." I smiled, trying not to sound as surprised as I was, but I guess that just made my 'hakuna matata' insincere.

Pretending Kiersa hadn't bothered, bugged, or really pissed me off wasn't the right thing to do, but I knew I couldn't tell Mariah her sister had been a problem, even if, in fact, she had been my ONLY problem.

"She's just looking out for you." I added. 

"I know." She agreed, oblivious to my deception. "She always does that a little too much, but she's always right."

She looked away from me and shook her head. When I realized I was confused, I tried to get her to clarify. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing... Everything. I mean, She just... tends to be a 'really' good judge of character." She laughed. "Give her a map and she'll tell you were all the losers live. No, wait, you know what? I bet she'd be able to pinpoint their current locations."

I nodded, impressed while she laughed--not that it surprised me. Kiersa was intuitive, sure, but I knew where Mariah was going with this. "I'm guessing this has something to do with that Nick guy?"

"Oh, so you met him." She seemed embarrassed, but I just kept on smiling. Not to brag, but how could I not?

"You 'could' say that. ..Don't think he likes me very much." I said assuringly. I wished I could tell her more about my encounter with the guy, but she kept on talking.

"She told me not to waste my time with him. Said he was a total ass, and she tried keeping me away from him, but I ignored her, and viola. Instant stalker."

"Well," I laughed my manliest laugh, "don't worry. If I can take care of him when I'm drunk on… beer, I can take care of him when I'm not."

"Thanks." She replied slightly suspicious of my last comment. I moved on quickly, rather than have her ask any questions.

"So, what's wrong?" I asked-- it was really no big deal. So she dated some losers her sister told her not to--who cares. Then it hit me. (Oops!)  
"Am I a total ass? What'd she say about me?"

The moment of truth, yet again. My entire fate rested on Kiersa's words alone. That woman was really on my nerves, now. But, again, she managed to surprise me.

"Nothing. I mean, she did tell me not to waste my time, but not like usual. She just wasn't her normal, over-protective self."

"Oh." Was all I could come up with for a response. I still had a chance, and I didn't know why. I didn't care why--or what Kiersa thought-- I had more important things to figure out.

"So what do you think? About me?"

She smiled "I haven't quite decided yet,"

"Well, I'll take that as a compliment, then." I grinned.

"Okay." She just laughed. "You do that."

"I will. But... I'm not quite sure I'm comfortable leaving things so… undecided. I think we're going to have to try this again tomorrow. See if we can get better results?"

She agreed with me.

I dropped her off at her place around 4—fortunately, before Kiersa got home. We sat parked outside for a few minutes, just smiling at each other, until she leaned over. I thought she was going to kiss me, right then and there, but she just whispered in my ear, got out, and left.

"Same time tomorrow."

I sat back, for a minute, to enjoy myself, then drove off to give Sam his Drone Reed. Didn't tell him I spent fifty bucks on the thing, where I got it, or even what it was for. I just said, "Sorry I've been a jerk. Here you go."

He looked it over, confused, and thanked me, still confused.

"Pack up. We're moving." I said.

It was funny how relieved he was. Didn't ask any questions, or even waste a minute. He just packed up his bag, grabbed his computer, and hopped into the car. Little did he know we weren't moving on—we were only moving.

Since it took about fifteen minutes to get from the motel to the apartment, I blasted the radio, like I normally would, and casually drove a few miles over the speed limit—also, like I normally would. Sam sat back and looked out the window, as he usually normally would when he was in that depressed little mode of his. It was obvious that he didn't want to leave; I guess that's why I was expecting my surprise to go over easier than it did. 

"Home, sweet, home." I smiled, pulling over to the side of the road and putting the car in park. I looked over, to see his reaction, but he just stared blankly at me.

"Huh?"

"What? Are you deaf? I Said: Home-Sweet-Home?" (Yes, capital H's and S's—I was emphasizing.)

"What are you talking about?" He looked at the small brick building, and then looked at me funny. "Dean?"

"What do you mean, what am I talking about?" I laughed and decided to get away from him as fast as possible. Hopped out of the car, and swung my keys around my finger as I walked up to the front door. (If he was to go crazy, I knew I could still beat him to the apartment and lock him out. I suppose that would go over better than me kicking his ass, anyway.)

"Dean!" He hollered, chasing after me—not in the dramatic sense, just in the following me sense, although he was being slightly dramatic. "What the hell is going on?"

"Nothing's going on, Sam. I just found us a place to stay. That's all."

"Stay? Why stay? I thought we were leaving? And what was wrong with the motel?"

"It was a motel? Isn't that wrong enough?" I just laughed. "Besides, this place is perfect for us. It's quiet. It's peaceful. It has green grass. And the neighbors are nice. Listen? Do you hear that? They like Elvis. It's a match made in heaven."

"Okay." he shook his head, trying to make sense of it all. "ONE, it's not Elvis. It's Queen. TWO, you KNOW that, and, three? Are you out of your mind?"

He'd asked that last question with a reluctant sigh. His voice had been a bare whisper, which meant he was already unwillingly ready to go along with my scheme—or just too tired to fight it. Either way, I pretended to think very seriously about the question before answering smugly: "Don't think so."

Maybe I'd been wrong.

He didn't take it so well.

He flipped.

"This is an apartment, Dean! We can't have an apartment! We live off of stolen credit cards and… and identity theft, we can't afford an apartment! Are you trying to get us caught??"

"Don't worry, Sammy. Everything's cool, okay? I got a job."

Heh.

If you ever want to see my brother turn to stone—and I mean, frozen solid, lifeless stone—just tell him I got a job. Seriously, it's pretty awesome. He didn't know what to do, or how to react to that one. He just did one of those double-takes and scanned his brain for the right words.

As his response was loading, I unlocked the door and let us in. As it swung open, I turned back to make sure my brother was still breathing. He shook his head a few times, still struggling with the concept, before he'd managed to ask another question.

"What the hell has gotten into you?"

I just smiled and quoted the king, "A crazy little thing called love."


	14. Chapter 14

You know, that whole lyric thing?

Well, turns out, it hadn't been nearly as dramatic as I thought it would be—guess I didn't think to realize I'd still have to spend the rest of the night with him and his "We can't do this, Dean" mentality. He paced around for an hour plotting out everything that could possibly go wrong, before (and as) he shared them with me.

Now, maybe I'm slightly exaggerating, and maybe I overreacted, too, but what happened next wasn't entirely my fault. He asked for it.

As you know, my entire day had been great. I was so happy, and the kid totally ruined my mood. So, I became determined to return the favor. I wanted him to hurt, and in my best effort to piss him off, I made up some story about my eventful day. Told him how I got into a fight with Tom, because he'd seen me kissing his girl; how I'd kicked his ass and set him straight too.

"You were smart not to get tangled up with her, Sam. Crazy bitch's nothing but trouble." I laughed. He just stood there, leaning against the door, studying me.

I knew he didn't believe me, and it made me feel nervous inside. I knew he was looking, just waiting, for me to crack— waiting for me to laugh and tell him I was only joking.

I would have, normally. It's not like I can take it when he stares at me with that confused, puppy-dog-be-honest, look—but not today. Today I just walked on past him as if I'd meant every word.

He shook his head, struggled with 'that' concept, and forgot about it.

"Cheer up, Sammy," I smiled my chummy smile. "There are plenty of other fish in the sea. Better ones, ones like Jess. You hungry? I can make… something."

"Naw, I'm not hungry."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I think I'm just gonna go to bed."

Slightly offended, I let the fact he'd laughed at my cooking slide, but only to inform him of the sleeping arrangements. "Okay," I sighed. "I hear the couch is heavenly."

"There aren't any beds?" He looked around.

"Oh, there are beds. One, actually, but, dude, I got the job, I get dibs."

"Whatever, Dean." He said, without a shrug, a smile, or finger. He just walked away. That ticked me off even more. I was tempted to keep haunting him, but I let that slide too.

I don't know what it was, but when I was around Sam, it was like I'd been programmed to destroy him, or something. He looked like crap, and I know he felt like crap, so why I couldn't just leave him be was beyond me.

It was scary.


	15. Chapter 15

_As you probably guessed, I'm not feeling so chatty tonight. Long, icky week. I'm trying to get back into 'writing' mode but after midterms.. no sparks. Here's another mini chapter of Dean logic. Figured I'd get it out of the way now, because I need a slight pause between this and the next. Enjoy :) _

* * *

I couldn't believe it, it was only our second week in town—not even. We'd scoped the place out a few days before actually meeting the girls, had the first date on Sunday, and the second yesterday. (Not bad, right?) Seven days, and already I felt like I belonged. Like I'd spent my entire life in that small town. 

Everything was going great, until that morning.

I woke up early Wednesday, in my usual sneak-out routine, got dressed, brushed my teeth, so on and so forth. Anyway, as I walk up to my parked car, guess who is sitting in the passenger's seat. Just guess.

Sam.

He just rolled out of bed, and beat me to the car, and get this, he smiles at me and says, "Good Morning, Dean."

"Good Morning, Dean."

"Get out of the car, Sam." I glared, but he only shook his head.

"Nuh-uh." He looked away, in his best effort to give me a cold shoulder. As if ignoring me would change my mind.

I didn't budge. "Excuse me?"

"No way, dude. You left me stranded in that motel room for three days. You are not gonna start ditching me again."

I swear, I wanted to kill him.

"Besides, what's so important that you have to sneak off anyway?"

"Nothin." I murmured.

"Yeah. Sure. We'll I can't wait to do nothin' with ya." He just kept on smiling. The jerk. He was lucky I'd felt so bad yesterday, otherwise I might have tossed him out of the car myself.

That's right. My goal yesterday, minus the 'buy apartment, get job, change life' goals, had been to hook Sammy up with that Kristina girl, so he'd quit buggin' me. Him tagging along would be my 'get out of jail free' pass—seriously. He'd fall madly in love and actually WANT to stay in town, and Mariah's sister wouldn't kill me. Yeah. Sam would sweet talk her out of that, just as he'd convinced her not to call the cops on us in the first place. ­­­

It was ingenious. Why didn't I think of it sooner?


	16. Chapter 16

How is everyone?? It's been a long, stressful, while--for me anyway. I made that last post after I failed a midterm, and the road has been bumpy since. But, I'm back for the time being, so I'm going to make the most of it!!

Silverbullet - thanks for the review today; this post is for pulling me back to the story-world

Feisty - Thanks for the reviews! Poor Sam, I know. Dean just isn't himself :p

Shaz- Glad you enjoyed the last two chapters--hope this one was just as good.

* * *

"Let's see." Sam sighed, after I'd parked in front of the music store. He looked over the places on the strip and turned to me,

"Either you need a haircut, feel like trying sushi, or you're seriously interested in learning to play the bagpipe?"

I could have easily come up with some snarky response to his babble, but I chose to ignore him. I was more interested in Mariah—could see her red hair shining through the music store window, and it made my day.

Sam's voice snapped as he called my name— trying to get my attention and figure me out. Both worked; by the time I'd turned to talk to him, he'd noticed Mariah in the window. He shook his head and snorted.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"What!" I laughed back, denouncing the idea. But he just laughed.

"You are so whipped."

Laughter was a good thing. It meant, just possibly, that he was coming around to the idea. Right? He was still shaking his head, but his open-mouthed grin convinced me he might finally be okay with it.

"I can't believe it." He whispered to himself.

I wanted to say, "Hey! You're the one who insisted on tagging along, remember?" Then curse at him a few times, but there'd been a tiny tap on my window. There she was, standing by the windshield with a look of confusion on her face.

Sam looked down at his hand and coughed 'whipped' into his fist. I just punched him and got out of the car.

"What's goin' on?" She asked, politely ignoring my brother-abuse. "You boys aren't leaving town, are you?"

I was dumbfounded. Flabbergasted. Leave town? Not a chance in hell. "Leave? No! Why would you think we were leaving?"

She just glanced to Sam, sitting impatiently in the front seat.

"Aw, Sam? Naw." I laughed, desperately searching for something funny to say, "He's not house trained yet."

I grinned and turned to smile at him—but he'd already gotten out to forfeit his seat. Could he have heard me? Crap.

I shot him my most-lame-ass smile, and turned back to Mariah.

"Okay," She nodded unsurely. I started following her to the passenger's seat when she let me in on a little secret of hers. "I can open a car door, Dean."

"Well, …I knew that," I responded as dignified as I could. Sam laughed as he hopped into the back seat, and I shot him yet another distasteful look. When I was sure Mariah couldn't see me, I even mouthed the word "bitch" at him, but he just rolled his eyes and slammed the door.

I knew, right then and there, how this date would end, but I chose to shrug it off and smile. "Well, this is going to be fun."

* * *

For lunch, Mariah had invited us both back to her place. (Or to Kiersa's place? I'm still not sure whose house it is, but it's where they were both staying.) I'd been nervous, at first, but she told me her sister was at work until 3.

It was barely noon. The day was ours.

We were given a wide variety of lunch options, but eventually settled for something I'd later call "the best damn sandwich ever." I don't know if it was because I liked the girl so much, or if it was just that great of a sandwich, but it was a great sandwich.

I guess it wasn't really a 'sandwich' sandwich. It was in one of those funky wrap things, so at first I was a little put off. But Sam said he wanted to try one, and I didn't want to be argumentative, so I just agreed.

Anyway, she took this green wrap-thing, tossed in some roast beef, mushrooms, onions and sun dried tomatoes, clumpy cheese, doused on some yellow sauce, and grilled that sucker. (I'm getting hungry just thinking about them.)

Sam practically inhaled his. It was pretty embarrassing.

"This is really good." He said after swallowing down his third or fourth bite.

I shot him one of those 'suck up' looks, and turned my attention to the sandwich before me.

"Sam. Take it easy." Mariah laughed. Man, was her laugh beautiful. But, of course, my stupid brother had to ruin the moment by existing. I would have rolled my eyes at him, if I could have done it without looking like a jerk. Instead, I just commented on his table manners.

"Yeah, Sam. Do I starve you, or something?"

"Well, if you want me to answer that question honestly…" He said thoughtlessly, after another gulp. "Where did you learn to make them? They're delicious."

"My sister's worked at a sub shop for the past three years, and I'm a quick study." She joked.

We both smiled. Sam finished up his lunch, and I started mine, but before taking a bite, I couldn't resist the taste of a little payback. I decided to ask the most obnoxious question I could think of.

"So. How 'is' your sister?" I glanced to Sam with a grin, and casually took my first bite. "Wow!"

They both stared at me. I just apologized and tried to contain my enthusiasm from that point forward.

"She's good?" Mariah asked curiously. I couldn't tell if she was suspicious of my question or my reaction to the wrap, but I didn't really care. I was more interested in my brother's reaction. He was just tense, as if he knew where I was going with the conversation. Couldn't disappoint him, now, could I?

"She seeing anybody?" I asked, as plain as day.

"Dean!" He snapped, hands slamming to the table. The look on his face was great. Mission accomplished—I mean total embarrassment.

"Like you weren't wondering the same thing." I snorted as I continued covertly fishing. "Come on, a girl like Kristen…"

"Kiersa…" Mariah corrected monotonously.

I picked her name up like nothing, after that. "Kiersa… She's got to be taken, right?"

"Can I talk to you, for a minute?" Sam asked sternly, without a breath, or blink, or sense of humor. Seriously, if you'd seen his face. You'd think he was going to spontaneously combust. Or, maybe just 'combust.' It's not really spontaneous, if he blows after I ticked him off, right?

Anyway. Mariah just laughed, and told Sam not to worry about it. "I don't know about her. I mean, I know one of her friends really likes her, but it's complicated."

"Complicated?" I asked with a mouthful of sandwich.

"Yeah. You know what, forget I said anything. She'd kill me if she ever found out I was selling her life's secrets to the two men she caught snooping around in her underwear drawer."

I just laughed.

"Which reminds me, Dean. You never did explain that."

"No, I didn't" I laughed nervously. The look in her eyes told me I wouldn't be able to change the subject, but it was a good thing I was so darn attractive. I could at least convince her out of the house. "How 'bout we take a walk, and I tell you all about it."

"That's what you told me last time, isn't it?"

"You caught me."

"Well, at least you're being honest. Deal." She grinned and picked up her plate, reached for mine (yes, I'd finished it already--it was a small) and Sam's but he already had his in hand.

"You two go ahead." He stood up and smiled thankfully, "I'll clean up. It's the least I can do." He said taking the plates.

"You sure?" Mariah's soft eyes pried. Sam nodded.

"Positive."

"All right. Let's go. I can't wait to hear this story." She smiled happily, and we left.


	17. Chapter 17

Just a little, and I unfortunately do mean "little" post for you all. I would have posted more, but I think I mentioned I'm seriously at the "end" of my good stuff.

I still have pages upon pages of this story, just nothing I'm entirely sure I want to use. Betas are of no use, either. I've gone through about 4 of them now. I must be horrible to read for, or something, because they all just vanish... I don't know, but once I get this sorted out, I promise there will be more, but until then this will have to do :(

**Shaz** and** Feisty** Thanks for the reviews and I hope your finals went well!! I don't know about you two, but I'm definitely tired of school. I graduate a week from today, and I'm so psyched. Is anyone else joining me, or do you still have a year or two to go?

* * *

We probably should have looked at the clock before we left, because, apparently, an hour lunch, a long walk, and a little porch-smooching quickly adds up to 3PM.

A few minutes into our kiss, I heard Sam drop something in the kitchen. The klutz then went running around the house apologizing like an idiot. I laughed it off, and continued where I'd left off, but we didn't get much further—he came barging out saying something like: _"I can explain!"_But before he tried explaining anything, he took one look at us and shook his head. "Or not."

His brow crinkled, and his mouth hung open as if he had something to say. I shot him my best 'piss off, I'm busy look,' but he motioned to Kiersa, standing behind me.

I hadn't heard her truck pull up, but she must have seen the Impala parked out in her driveway, and she definitely saw Sam snooping around in her kitchen—but to run around the house to see me and her sister making out on the front porch? Don't think she'd seen that one coming.

Her hands flew up in the air, hovered a bit as she pieced things together, then just dropped to her sides. We all shared one of those awkward, staring-contest moments, until Kiers shook her head and exhaled. She brushed past us, and made her way into the house.

Mariah just bit her lip.

"Maybe we should go?" I smiled. What else was I supposed to do, anyway? Stick around? Mariah didn't seem like the cat-fight type, so it wasn't like I was missing much by leaving. The girls would probably sit down, have a heart-to-heart and finally see eye to eye. All I had to do was let nature take it's course, and walk away. Mariah even agreed.

"Yeah." She nodded. "Yeah, that's probably the best idea."

"Same time tomorrow?" I laughed, but she bit her lip again.

"I'll call you."

"Okay." I couldn't argue with that, even if the lip-biting had been discouraging. I smiled and turned to my brother, "Ready, Sam?"

I could see the kid struggling with himself. He wanted to go in and apologize, but he knew he couldn't. Mariah looked him over solemnly and closed the door. I punched him jokingly in the arm to cheer him up, then walked to the Impala and waited for him to follow.


	18. Chapter 18

Wow! I'm so nervous again! ..Even after that huge break (which I apologize for), I still feel like I have nothing, so I hope this next post is to everyone's likings. I'm really not happy with it, but I don't think it's fair to deprive anyone any longer, so here it is! Hopefully I'm not dooming myself in the long run!!

Enjoy!!

**fearlessgoddess + hellott,** thank you so much for all your reviews!! thanks to you two (and everyone, really) I've beaten my record of reviews. My other story has 46 not that it's complete or even relevent, but the big 5-0 just made me so happy! I'm also glad you two are enjoying it!!

**Shaz-** 17 exams?? What on earth are you majoring in?? How to take tests? Well, I'm sure they are long gone, now, but I hope you did well on all of them!! You'll be pleased to know that my diploma is sitting right across from me--so if I can do it, you definitely can too!! :)

* * *

"Cheer up, Sam." I said, not only hoping to break the mounting tension, but to cheer him up too. He'd been quietly internalizing the situation since he'd gotten in the car, and I just couldn't take it anymore.

I mean, it was so bad that even 'I' was starting to feel guilty. I had to get his mind out of that rut—get his hopes up—turn that frown upside down and get him thinking positively. I knew exactly what to say to do it, too.

"The way I see it, that girl is yours in three days." I lied.

It must have worked, because even though he didn't look at me, he smiled for a minute.

"Seriously?" He asked softly. I turned and smiled back at him— to confirm the thought—but that wasn't what he was thinking at all. In fact, I could tell the last thing on his mind was a girlfriend—just by the wimpy "talk to me" look he had on his face.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked, and, again, the tone in his voice was confusing. Either it had been a rhetorical question, and he was too emotionally exhausted to handle an answer, or he was seriously trying to pry my brain.

I just laughed and turned my eyes to the road. "What do you mean?"

"This—You?! It's like you're a whole different person." His voice strained in confusion. "What's going on with you, Dean?"

"Nothing's going on with me, Sam" I rolled my eyes and, in an attempt to leave the conversation at that, reached to higher the volume on the radio. His hand beat me to it, though, and he shut it off before I could react. For some reason that surprised me, and I didn't think to slap him silly. Instead, I retreated to my corner of the car and sulked. We were almost home, anyway...

"Then why won't you talk to me?" He persisted, so I snapped.

"What? Are we married, or something?"

"No, Dean. We're…" He stopped, steamed, and bit his lip, "You know, I don't even know anymore. What 'are' we? Because I thought we were hunting, or at least trying to figure out the demon's plans for me, but right now I'm pretty sure all we're doing here is just sitting around wasting time!"

Great. He gets caught being a snoop, and suddenly it's all a waste of time? I suppose it was all my fault, too? Well, I had a newsflash for him—I could yell just as loud as he could, and so I did. "Oh, you think this is a waste of time?! Huh?!" I hollered back, but before I could think of anything better to add in, he scoffed at me.

"Uh. Yeah?" He said lowered his voice. "Considering everything else that's going on? Yeah, I do. I think this is a 'big' waste of time." He paused and turned his eyes to the road ahead. "Unless there is something you're not telling me?"

I hoped he would just leave it at that, but I knew him better. The reason he wasn't looking at me was because he thought that I'd actually open up to him if I wasn't feeling "threatened" or afraid of being judged. He kept his eyes locked on the windshield even after I'd pulled into the driveway, so I knew I had to talk to him—or risk having this conversation all over again once we got inside. So I parked the car, bit the bullet, and _r_eluctantly handed over my secret.

"I really like this girl." I told him, but apparently that wasn't a good enough answer.

"Really?" He sounded sarcastically surprised, but more than anything, I think he was just disappointed.

_"_Yeah, man, like really. Really." I smiled again, thinking he, for once, understood me—no such luck.

"That's it?" He shook his head, "That's your big secret? That's why we're still here, when we could be out…"

"Yeah," I snapped again, "that's it! All right? And you want to know what else? Maybe I'm tired! Okay? I'm sick and tired of everything. This job. This life. It sucks! It all sucks, and I want to be done!"

As I wondered where that outburst came from, I took a breath.

"Yeah. Well, you know what? Me too, Dean, but I can't just walk away. Not with everything I know, and everything I need answered."

"I know, Sammy." I said, because I did know. I know he was scared, and I know he wanted answers--hell, I did too. But honestly, I didn't have them and I didn't know where to look. I wasn't even so sure I wanted to go looking, either. I just wanted things to stop changing, but I soon found that no matter what I did, keeping things 'the same' was impossible.

"Good. Because I'm leaving first thing in the morning." He told me, and damn nearly broke my heart. I wanted to ask him to stay, but I knew I couldn't.

"I can't just sit around here and wait to go dark-side again. If there's a way to fight it, to stop it? Then I have to figure it out."

In that moment, there were so many things I wanted to say, but I just couldn't. What had happened to turn this pep-talk into a tear-filled heart to heart, anyway? Not that I was crying, but hey, who knows what would have happened, had I been drunk again.

I took a deep breath and sighed, shook my head, and paused—still not knowing how to ask him to stay. I should have said, "You know I want the same thing" or "Yeah, me too" but I couldn't say anything. I shut off the Impala, dropped my head, and that was it.

Sam nodded to himself, then got out of the car, and walked up to the porch of our apartment.


	19. Chapter 19

Thanks, Shaz! Looks like it's just you and me, so I really hope you enjoy this post!! Otherwise I'll be all alone :(

Stinks about your tests, though--why so long?? Oh well, what's done is done. Don't stress about them, and enjoy your summer!! Hopefully the next 2 years will fly by, just like mine did!

* * *

At the time, I didn't know how things could get any worse. I mean, when Sammy ever said that he was leaving, I was pretty sure I'd hit rock bottom; but as the saying goes, when it rains, it pours.

In case you were wondering, I never asked for things to get any more screwed up than they already were—I was, after all, already unemployed, broke, bored, possibly single, miserable, and, now, on top of all that, abandoned and car-less—but like I said earlier: two peas, a pod of misfortune. Story of my life.

But the car? Total shocker, I know. See, I let Sam borrow the car, in good faith. I was hoping that if I lent it to him, he'd stick around another day or two until I sorted things out with Mariah. I didn't know what would happen after that, but I just knew that if I could keep him around, even a little bit longer, things might work out.

So I sat around, for hours, just waiting. For Sam to come back, or for Mariah to call, or even for lightning to strike and end my miserable existence. I never expected all three to happen within the same 5 minutes.

First, the phone rang. It was Mariah.

I wasn't sure what to say, so I let her do the talking. Big mistake, there. She didn't want to see me again. I couldn't believe it. Why she was doing this— breaking up with me, over the phone? It was like being hit with a ton of bricks—quite literally—only worse. Without her standing there, in front of me, my hands were tied. I couldn't stop it.

Then, halfway through her breakup speech, the door opened behind me, and in popped Sam with his arms full of groceries, or something. I tried my hardest to ignore him, and to focus on what Mariah was saying, but I felt my world starting to spin.

"Wait. Are you…?"

I couldn't even finish my sentence. Not with him there—doing that would have let him know he'd been right all along. That it 'had' been just a big waste of time.

Stupid Sam.

I could feel his eyes on me, even if he was in the other room, back to me, putting stuff away; I could just see him staring at me. Laughing.

Couldn't he have sat in the car an extra ten minutes before barging in? Him and his stupid groceries… He could have taken his time putting them away, too, but did he? No, he'd much rather walk over and hand me a hamburger. The nerve.

I shot him a nasty, 'piss off' look before getting back to my conversation.

He plopped down on the couch with a newspaper, looked over the picture on the front page, and then opened it up. Looked like he was reading it too, but I know he was just pretending. Just waiting, to hear that he'd been right.

"Listen." I finally worked up the courage to say.

I spent another second trying to word it just right—so that Sam would never know what we were talking about.

"Whatever it is you want to tell me…"

I stopped again, hoping I think of some reason to see her again. Sam must have noticed I was struggling, because I caught him staring at me again. If I could have smacked that confused, concerned look off his face, I would have.

I think he knew what I was thinking, too, because he snorted a bit and buried his face in his paper. Then it hit me! On the front page of the local paper, there was a huge Ferris Wheel—when I squinted to see the headline, not that I believe in destiny, or anything like that, it all made sense.

I quickly finished my sentence, hoping my brother couldn't hear the same dial tone I heard. "…you can tell me Sunday. I've already got this huge surprise for you. Okay? Oh? Great! Okay, no that's great. That's great. Perfect, actually. No, I can't wait. Whatever you want. Definitely. Mhmm. Okay, see you then. Take care."

"Take care?" Sam scoffed.

The fact that he was mocking what I said convinced me that I'd convinced him, so to keep in character, I snapped.

"Shut up."

"Dude, you are so hooked. It's pretty sad." He laughed, and looked back at his paper. Mission accomplished! He had been fooled!

"You have no idea," I grumbled, hoping that would be the end of the conversation, but, of course, I was wrong yet again. The damn kid wouldn't drop it. He was like a stubborn dog with slippers.

"So," He paused, dropped the paper in his lap, again, and looked up at me, "they aren't upset?"

He sounded unsure.

I was unsure. Maybe I hadn't convinced him.

My heart stopped, but I tried to shrug it off. "Why would they be upset?" I asked, wondering what he was wondering. Could he have known I was lying? Was this a trick? Or was this simply what I wanted? Him to be curious, and actually, possibly interested in staying. I didn't know—but I did notice he was still staring at me. That made me mad.

His expression changed, and that worried me too. Did he suspect something? Maybe my long pause and thoughtful examination of the situation had sparked his curiosity? Did I look guilty? I changed my posture to look more relaxed, and smiled. I decided to end the silence by giving a more definite response."No, Sam. They're fine." I said calmly, but the questions didn't stop there.

"And, they're okay ..with us?" He asked "perplexed."

"Yes, Sam!" I said, again, trying not to let my frustration sound in my voice.

"Well," he shook his head confused, "what did she say?"

He couldn't just drop.

I couldn't take it. I was so angry, and that's about the last thing I remember.

Next thing I knew, Sam was gone.

The car was parked outside the apartment, and he was gone. Just gone.

My mind was racing—spinning so fast, I could barely think straight. I kept hoping that maybe he'd comeback—that' he'd gone out for a walk, forgot to tell me, and would laugh at me when he finally got back.

That was just me kidding myself.

He was really gone; it was like reliving the Meg thing all over again—a nightmare that I'd woken up into and couldn't escape. I couldn't sort it out, either. I didn't know how.

Would have been a different story if I'd known something more—like hunting. If I knew what I was facing, a demon, vampire, or ghost, then, the plan would have been simple—find it, kill it, move on. But this was different. First, I had to figure out what I was up against, and I didn't know where to start. Had there been anything suspicious, or supernatural about this town, I had missed it entirely. I'd been blind sighted.

Like an idiot, I'd spent the whole time chasing some stupid fairytale. Now, as I thought back, I couldn't think of a single thing that might have indicated we were in danger. Not a thing.

I couldn't save Sam, because, for the first time in my life, I didn't know how to. But I knew I couldn't let that stop me. I had to think of something.


	20. Chapter 20

If you were wondering where my groove went, please know we're on the same page... Oh yeah, and if you happen to actually KNOW where my grove went--please let me know!! I miss it, and I want it back :(

Seriously, though, I've been suffering from a little something I'd like to call creative constipation... The ideas are all there, but there's a pile-up between my brain and the paper.. or keyboard, in this case, but whatever. HERE IS A NEW POST!! YAY!!

To the reviewers-- thank you for sticking with and dealing with my slowness..

Shaz thanks for the hugs--I'm glad I'm still entertaining you!!

Feisty.. Danger? (Evil grin) Would this really be a Supernatural story without danger?

* * *

So many things were running through my mind I could barely keep them all straight.

I'd lost my brother, my memory, and my entire background knowledge of hunting— all in a matter of seconds. I was pitiful. Useless. Pathetic, even, which didn't make sense. I was never like that. Ever. Something had to have happened. I knew that I had to have blacked out. Somehow, someway, I had to have blacked out—there was no other explanation.

Still, that knowledge didn't help much as I thought it might. Sure, I could sit around for hours researching and reviewing every paranormal blackout in the history of the demonic world, but that wasn't what was going to find Sam. I had to act, not think.

Looking back, I guess that may have been a stupid plan. Had I known what I'd been up against sooner, maybe things would be different now. Maybe I could have acted faster, fought harder, or maybe I could at least sleep at night. That's just wishful thinking, though. Even now, even when I know that nothing I could have known or done would have made a difference, I still want to believe it could have.

Enough about that, though. I'm sure you could care less about my inner turmoil. You're like me—like I was—worried about Sam. And, as you already know, I didn't think, I acted. Although, I suppose you could actually call it active-thinking, but whatever. I'm just glad I had the common sense to do it.

I needed some hard clues as to what I was up against, so I ran to the car to get my gear. Dad's journal, in the glove compartment, was obviously useless at this point, but the gun hiding behind it was not. I grabbed that and stuffed it in the back of my jeans as I made my way to the trunk to figure out what else I could use. Realizing that the only two useful gadgets I had were an outdated thermal scanner and a handheld EMF, I grabbed them both, juggling the two in my arms as I slammed the trunk shut.

As I walked back to the apartment, I stuck the EMF's antenna in my mouth so that I could boot up the old scanner. It took two hands and a few minutes, but it eventually turned on and alerted me that nothing was out of the ordinary, at least in the hallway. I took the EMF out of my mouth and turned it on as I entered and scanned the living room. This time, with both devices. Again, the scanner detected no temperature changes, but the EMF spiked the second it powered on.

I placed the thermal scanner down on the table and continued on the trail. Normally, see, I would hope for it to detect something—because the spike would indicate whether or not something evil was, or had been around—but this time it was different. This time, all I was hoping for the thing to 'stop' detecting, because it seemed wherever I went it found something.

I eventually deemed the equipment useless and unnecessary (because even if it was accurate, it was obvious that the entire town was evil, and I didn't need some stupid little machine beeping every instant to tell me that.) So I drove around for hours. Checked the bar, the train station, high ways, side streets—everywhere I could possibly think of—and after realizing that all that looking had gotten me absolutely no where, I knew I'd need help.

I never would admit to it, but, I also wouldn't risk not getting it. Not while Sam was in danger. No way. I had to find him, and I'd come to the conclusion that I'd need more information on the town. Some local that knew the legends, the stories, and the history of the place. I needed those girls.


	21. Chapter 21

Oops! I thought that chapter was missing something, and it was--the ending!! Here is the rest of chapter 20! Sorry!! (But while I'm here...)

Thank you Lover,

Thank you Stakemenow,

Thank you Shaz,

Hope everyone is ready for the fun stuff, because it's coming up fast... If I lose you, let me know and I'll be sure to explain. Enjoy and take care though!

* * *

I eventually deemed the equipment useless and unnecessary (because even if it was accurate, it was obvious that the entire town was evil, and I didn't need some stupid little machine beeping every instant to tell me that.) So I drove around for hours. Checked the bar, the train station, high ways, side streets—everywhere I could possibly think of—and after realizing that all that looking had gotten me absolutely no where, I knew I'd need help.

I never would admit to it, but, I also wouldn't risk not getting it. Not while Sam was in danger. No way. I had to find him, and I'd come to the conclusion that I'd need more information on the town. Some local that knew the legends, the stories, and the history of the place. I needed those girls.

More specifically, I needed Kiersa.

Mariah? She'd broken my heart, and I really didn't think I could look at her. Plus, I couldn't let myself become distracted with my own life, not while Sam's was on the line. On top of that, I knew Kiersa already knew about the kind of work we did, and, even adding to that, I knew she liked Sam—or, at least I hoped she did—because then she'd be eager to help. She'd do anything to save him.

When I knocked on the door, I prayed she'd answer.

She did, and the first thing she did after opening it was close it.

I had that much coming, I'll give her that. And as tempted as I was to reach out and stop that door from slamming in my face, I held back and simply asked her to wait. I sounded cheap, and weak, and the look she gave me made me feel like such a fool, but she must have heard the desperation in my voice because she listened.

"Sammy's gone." I said, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice. "He's gone, and I need your help."

Her eyes turned away from me, for a moment, like she was bothered by the sight of me, but she still held off on closing the door.

"I don't believe you." She lied, turning her eyes back to me. Studying me to see if I'd crack. I knew she believed me, because she wouldn't have even bothered saying that if she truly didn't. She would have just shut me out.

She was still hesitant, though. I could see it in her eyes. There was a fear there—not for me or Sam, but for herself. For whatever reason, something had changed. She didn't trust me anymore, which was weird. She had trusted me when I was a stranger in her house and back at the restaurant. Heck, even after telling her about Sam's last girlfriend, she still technically dated me. Yet now, when I needed her the most, she was a stonewall.

"Please. I need your help. I don't know where else to go."

"Did you try the cops?"

"The cops?" I laughed, realizing then that my going there had been a mistake. When she said that, I knew I had to leave. I should have known I'd need to do this on my own. I mean, was she serious? Had I not been clear or specific enough when I'd dropped the werewolf-bomb? I guess I had grossly underestimated her. Seriously. The cops. I had to laugh as I turned and walked away. The cops.

"Dean, wait." I heard her call after me. I didn't turn to see her. Didn't want to. I just stood there, staring at my car, wondering if I should bother.

"What can I do?"

The reluctance in her voice had me wondering if she sincerely wanted to help or if she just felt obligated to. It really pissed me off, too, because I knew, had the roles been reversed, and she'd shown up knocking on my door, asking for help with her sister, I'd jump at the chance—but not this girl. As nice as she seemed, she didn't really seem to care. I just didn't get her, but I knew I didn't have the time to figure her out. When she invited me in, I accepted, and she immediately changed her tune.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Kiersa asked closing the door behind me. I made my way to the living room, but she chose not to follow. She just stood by the door, so I stopped and turned to face her.

"Uh.. Your sister called me. He had a hamburger. A paper. And that's it."

"That's it? That's all you remember?" She sounded suspicious.

"Yes! No.." I shook my head, and thought for a moment but that was all I could remember.

She must have sensed my frustration, though. Her voice became soft. Caring, almost, and I think, for a minute, she was honestly trying to calm me down.

"Okay, that's okay. A hamburger and a paper?" She thought about it before asking the irrelevant. Did you two have a fight? Does he have a cell phone? Where would he have gone? She really had her thinking cap on, I could tell. I tried my best not to get annoyed with her, but a new question soon popped into her head, and I lost it. "Why did my sister call you?" She seemed offended.

"Like you don't know." I snorted.

"She broke up with you, Dean."

"Yeah. That's why she called me." I answered the queen of obvious with a rude glare. "Do you have to rub it in?"

As hard as it was to say, I was glad I put it that way, because she definitely looked ashamed about asking. Or, at least I thought she did.

"That was almost three days ago. You're saying you haven't seen your brother in three days, and you're just now realizing he's gone?"

I laughed at the absurdity of the thought. "Three days? No, I just saw him. With ..the ..hamburger. Three days?"

Could it have really been three days? I placed my hands against my head and thought about it. Everything started to spin.

"Dean? The blood?" Her words were very clearly stated, as if she was trying to keep me focused. "Where did it come from?"

I tried my hardest to figure out what I'd missed, while I tried my best to keep from zoning out again, but everything was happening so fast. I thought about the blood—what blood? Whose blood? My blood? Sam's? I didn't know.

"Are you hurt?" She asked, glancing at my hip. I shook myself out of the trance and looked down to see the blood. Not feeling any pain, I lifted the shirt to check for any injuries I might have possibly not realized I had, but as I suspected, there were none. By the time I looked back up at her, she looked, as the expression goes, as pale as a ghost.

I knew what she was thinking. She was thinking that it was Sam's blood on my shirt—hell, I was thinking it too. Whose else could it have been? But it didn't make sense. It was a thin straight red line, as if I'd been cut. If the blood had belonged to anyone else, it wouldn't have been so neatly spread. Right?

Three days. Fresh blood. Not even a scratch. It didn't add up.

My mind started racing, the way it normally did when Sam was in danger, but this was something else. It seemed the more I tried to think about what had happened, the more I couldn't remember. It was a true mental block, and it scared me.

Sometime during this freak out, Kiersa had realized I was sincerely worried. She told me to calm down, smiled, and said it would all be all right, but what did she know? Neither of us knew a single thing--her even less than me--and yet there she was telling me it was all going to be okay—the nerve.

"I need to find him."

I barely recognized my own voice. It was hoarse and desperate—and I hated that I couldn't sound stronger. "But I don't even know where to start."

"Okay, why did you come here?"

That was the first thing she asked, and it really set me off. I think the look I gave her told her that too, because she immediately restated her question. "You came here because you thought I could help you—why me? What can I do?"

"This town. I need to know… everything about this town. This city, the history. Legends? The ghost stories? The odds the ends. I need to know everything. Every single thing."

"Okay, ..um. Well," She thought real hard about the question, but came up short.

"Anything, Kiers. Unsolved mysteries, murders, anything out of the ordinary. Uh…" As I racked my brain trying to find some other way to explain this to her, a saw a lightbulb go off inside her skull.

"Two years ago, uh… this kid went missing from Emerson County. They found his body behind the coffee shop, but never found his killer."

"Okay, vengeful spirit. That's good. Anything else? No matter how crazy. Anything?"

"The hill—There's an old house up on Mill Hill, nobody's lived there for about seventy years. Everyone jokes about it being haunted. Oh, and there is this really weird tree in the valley, nobody remembers seeing it in all their lives, but it's there? That kind of stuff?"

"Yeah, yeah, that's good. Thank you."

I nodded my head to show my gratitude, but something in her eyes caught my attention. She wouldn't look at me directly; I knew she was trying to ask me something.

"So… all that stuff …about the werewolf, and, um, your strange, 'complicated' lives." She laughed, "This is it?"

"This is it." I laughed too, and thanked her again before I left.

It was all too clear that my brother had been right— we weren't dating material, and we certainly weren't cut out for happily ever after. Me and my foolish, selfish desires. Why'd I have to kid myself?

That poor girl would probably never sleep again, and it was all my fault. I'd scarred her for life. The uncertainty in her voice and that fear in her eyes? Made me hate myself for dragging her into this life. For telling her more than she ever needed to know. She didn't understand any of it, and she shouldn't have to.

Still, I was more than half glad that it was Kiersa standing there, and not Mariah; that was selfish too.


	22. Chapter 22

**Shaz-- **I'm glad I could amaze you with that last chapter, especially after forgetting to post most of it! I didn't get a lot of feedback from my beta, but I was very proud of the way it ended :) Hope these next few are equally as good!

**Stakemenow **-- I am definitely glad you are pondering about the story, because, to me, that means there's depth, which was my goal. Hope I can keep that up too!

For anyone else who is reading, I'd love to hear from you. You can just say "boo," but your thoughts are important to me and the story. :)

* * *

The second that door closed behind me I knew it was over.

Sure, one could argue that the heart-breaking breakup had been a small clue, but this actually sealed the deal. It was one of those things that a guy just couldn't look past—it was over. And actually, at that point, I was fine with it. A bit relieved, even. I was free of it all, and I didn't think twice about either of those girls. All my attention turned to Sam.

In the bottom of my gut I had that feeling. That one bad feeling. This was it. This was the war.

The last time Sam had up and disappeared, I nearly had to kill him. Just like Dad said. Now, I didn't want to have to think about it, but I couldn't exactly pretend it hadn't been in the back of my mind. I knew I had to be ready; just as I knew I had to find another way around it—should it be true. I needed an out—a loophole. A miracle. And as the crazy notion of prayer crossed my mind, something arguably crazier happened. I heard Kiersa, calling out my name.

At first I thought that maybe I'd forgotten my jacket or something, but I honestly didn't care. It was too nice a day and I had too much on my mind to worry about a stupid jacket—especially one I didn't have to begin with. Unfortunately, though, the option of ignoring her and driving away wasn't available. I mean, I'd barely made it back to the car, and there she was—running down the steps, purse in hand. Like she knew exactly what she was doing.

"Honey, this ain't no shopping trip!" I hollered to her, but she just laughed and tossed the bag (which, for argument's sake, **was** a purse that just may have been considered, by some, to be a small backpack) over the car for inspection. I caught it and looked inside, all the while debating on whether or not to make a basketball joke about her pass.

"A friend of mine used to say: If you aren't prepared, then you're not ready, and if you're not ready, you can't go anywhere." She said, nervously holding her ground. I gave up on the basketball joke and just used that.

"Aw, that's cute! Did that friend also happen to teach you not to take things too literally? I mean, seriously?" I said opening the bag, "Water? Food? A first aid kit? Pepper spray?? What is that? A candy bar? You planning for a hike in the woods or an apocalypse?"

"You're covered in blood. Your brother's been missing for days. And you want to make jokes?" She shook her head with a double-take. "I'm sorry, what was your plan? Save him with love? And ha-ha's?"

"Ha-ha's?" I raised an eyebrow, but I knew she was right. In fact, I was pretty surprised. In all the years I'd been hunting, I'd prepared myself with guns, weapons, and spells— but I'd never once thought about a first aid kit. Would have come in handy, on occasion, I guess…

Well, she shook her head again, and I could see the disgust building in her eyes. It made me feel sort of bad for mocking her, but before I could muster up some form of an apology she asked me a question I wasn't prepared to answer.

"Do you want my help or not?"

"I don't think you're ready for this." My answer was an instant cop-out at the time, but it made sense. Especially given her reply.

"I don't think you know me." Was her retort.

"I think I do." I said with a smile. "I think you don't." (And, I think I may have confused her, there.) "You're a nice girl. A little rough around the edges, but you're a nice girl, with a nice, hot, sister. You have a nice, steady, job, and a nice house, and you dress okay," I said thinking back to the dresser drawers with a smirk, but shook my head away from that thought for a more serious one. "But at the end of the day, you don't know just how lucky you are. To come home—every day— to your life, the way it was the moment you walked out that door. It's the same. It always will be."

"What's your point, Dean?"

"You come with me, now, and you can kiss all that goodbye. Everything you know— everything in that pretty little world of yours, And I don't care who you are, but you aren't ready for that. No one is." I shook my head, and when I saw I had her thinking hard, I tossed her bag back over the car (more gently, of course, than when she'd tossed it to me). Then asked, "So, you still think you're ready?"

"I think I said I was going to help you find him." She smiled sadly, looking down at the tires on my car. "So I'll ask again, do you want my help or not?"

And I knew. I just knew. The minute she looked up at me, I knew. And I smiled, because she knew I knew—you know? She just smiled back, with an affirming nod, and hopped into the car.


	23. Chapter 23

No bites? Uhoh, I hope that last chapter wasn't too bad. But at the risk of talking to myself, I just wanted to say that my goal is to get to Part II before the new season starts--so more is on the way!

* * *

Our first stop was the haunted house, then we'd check out the 'strange tree', and if we found nothing at either of those places, we'd check out the missing kid. It wasn't like there weren't many libraries around here to research in, and that was always more of a Sam thing, anyway.

I just hoped I'd find him, not that you understand. You have no idea—you're just thinking that I'm crazy—about taking Kiersa—and why not? I was thinking it too.

Still, and for whatever reason, at that particular point in time I felt the crazier thing would have been to have gone at it alone. Don't ask me for logic, because there simply ain't any there. Maybe I was desperate, or scared. (Not for myself, of course, but for Sammy.) All I know is that she got into my car and the thought of kicking her out never once crossed my mind. Besides, if she was insane enough to trust me, why shouldn't I be insane enough to trust back? I mean, for all I knew, maybe she was that miracle I'd been thinking of. Maybe, I don't know, she could get to him? You know? If he was all-evil again? Lame thought—did I really just think that up? Aloud? Never mind. The point is I didn't want to kill my own brother, and I was hoping that with her around I wouldn't have to. Or get to. I mean, what if I had no choice? What if I had to kill him?

She'd stop me. Right?

I guess it had been a pretty desperate move on my part. There I was, potentially faced with choosing to save the world—the lives of thousands. Millions—Or the life of my brother, and rather heroically face that dilemma alone, I'd sabotaged my chances by bringing a tag-along, would-be girlfriend, replacement sidekick to hold my hand? Man, that was pathetic, but whatever.

What's done is done. Who cares, really? And, I mean, what if this was just me making a mole hill out of a mountain. Mountain out of a mole hill? For all I know this is a basic, run-of-the-mill vengeful spirit, or some Casper. Him and Sam are probably sharing a cup of tea, having a jolly old time telling ghost stories and talking about the weather.

I laughed, but when I turned to his seat and he wasn't there, it stung hard. It sucked that I had to look over and see at her, instead—not that I want to get all touchy-feely with my emotions, but, yeah it sucked. And then the thought of her being my moral conscience? That quiet, clueless girl in the corner of my car? That made me sick too. I couldn't even crack a Sam joke.

Anyway, as I drove, worried about Sam, and thought of the giant mistake I'd made in bringing his latest infatuation to help tether him to the real-world, I couldn't take the silence. Conversation material was easy, though, especially since I hadn't "Allegedly" eaten in three days and the girl had a bag full of goodies. "So, do you have enough candy to share, or is that an emergency-only stash?" I smiled.

She informed me that it wasn't candy, but generously opened her bag and passed me a bar of crap. Claimed it was some 'energy' bar, but as far as I'm concerned that was crap too. It was a crap bar, end of story. I ate it, and a half of another, but I was not happy with either of them.

"Don't you have to get to work or something?" I continued the small talk as I tried swallowing down another bite.

"No, I, uhm." She blushed.

I must have caught her off guard; I could see her thinking of what to say. How to phrase it. I looked away, and she finally just said it.

"Today was my last day— I'm actually supposed to be on vacation. Tom and I go camping every March for Saint Patrick's Day; I was supposed to meet him an hour ago."

"Oh," I said pretending to sound interested. I really didn't care, but I didn't want to sound insensitive either. Especially where I probably still needed her help. On a positive note, at least I knew she wasn't a freak—having a whole survival kit prepacked and ready to go? It made sense now—she was going camping.

Another thing occurred to me, though. I realized Tom was the Ron guy, the footnote bartender. The guy who'd been in the house with them the night we broke in. He also had to be the guy Mariah had been telling me about. The 'friend' who really liked her.

I turned to her, surprised, as if she'd confirm the thought—but she had no idea what was going on inside my head. She just smiled, nervously, ran her fingers through her hair and shook her head, "What?"

As she did this, I saw it. The ring on her finger, and suddenly things stopped making sense. For a minute I thought the car stopped moving, or the world stopped moving, or something. I tried not to stare, and turned my eyes back to the road as quickly as I could. Shook my head as I tried to remember if it had always been there. I know I'd never noticed it before—but I hadn't exactly been looking either. Sam would have known, though. He would never… No. Uh-uh. He thinks about that stuff. It was probably nothing. Couldn't be new. What did I know? Hell, I couldn't even tell you off the top of my head which hand meant something and which didn't—not now that I had to think about it. It didn't matter. I shook my head again, and she asked me if I was okay.

I wanted to yell. I mean, how could I be okay? Here I am, throwing caution to the wind, running with this dumb-ass plan, and now this? What? She couldn't have told me earlier? I hated her, but I had to know. I couldn't take her if some lousy bartender was going to spoil my plan... whatever it was. Fortunately, I was smooth, and quickly thought of the perfect way to ask—without letting her on to my suspicions.

"So, you dating him, or what? Must be close if you two go camping every year?" I pried thoughtlessly, keeping my face straight as the road ahead of us. I didn't blink, or think, I just said it. (S-M-double O-T-H. Smooth)

"Yeah," She laughed uncomfortably, "or what. I mean. Like I said, my life's complicated."

"Sure," I laughed, without letting a second pass. "Hey, I hear you. But there's just one thing I don't get." I took a breath to calm down, because the way I'd said that might have been a little questionable. "Why were you home? And not… meeting Tom? Hell, why are you here?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you—or maybe you would. I just… I had a bad feeling, you know? Like maybe I shouldn't go?"

"And you didn't have that bad feeling when I showed up at your door?" I chuckled, but her smile dropped for a minute. I was slightly offended, but I couldn't blame her. I suspected that she still hated me, and by now she probably knew the feeling was mutual. Even still, I tried to make her laugh, "I know" I said nodding my head "it's nothing personal."

She shook her head. "I don't like you. I don't trust you. And I don't want you anywhere near me or my sister. But what you said the other night… About Sam?"

This time, my face dropped. I thought back to all my conversations with her, and I couldn't think of a single time I'd said anything about my brother. She laughed.

"Don't look so perplexed." She said realizing I hadn't a clue what she was talking about. (Not necessarily vocabulary-wise; I was clueless about Sam—for the record.)

"You don't even remember, do you?" She sighed. "That shouldn't surprise me—you were pretty drunk. But, it's okay. Look, it doesn't matter whether you remember or not. What matters is that, for whatever reason— what you said— I trust you on that. And I respect you for it. I know what it's like, Dean, and I will help you find him."

I'll admit, I may have been taken back by her speech—even if I didn't know what the hell she was talking about—it really got me thinking. So much so that I almost ignored her when she told me to stop the car.

Her head tilted a bit as to direct me where to pull over, and she hopped out of the car before I'd even put it in park.

"The rest of the road is blocked off; this trail is the quickest and, …well, only route." She said without even looking back to see if I was behind her.

That pretty much set the tone for the rest of our hike; she ignored me, and I wondered what I did wrong to cause the total about-face in her mood.


	24. Chapter 24

I'm glad I didn't scare you away-- because I was honestly up half the night debating on whether or not to pull and ditch those two chapters. But I went against the better judgment of my beta, and kept them both. It will make more sense in the grander scheme of things, I promise. But, ah-yes. School. How did I forget? I hope you have less tests this year!!

Regarding your question--no, you're not going crazy. The comment was a reference to chapter 7 and the whole "trial-date-thing" with Kiersa. I'd be surprised if anyone knew it! Dean spent half the night in an intoxicated blur and even he doesn't remember it (Clever, huh? He can't tell you what he doesn't know :) Anyway, if you get a chance or need a break from homework, I would recommend skimming over that chapter--I'm almost positive there are a few things in there that will pop out now that you know something's off. And I don't want to go off and spoil the fun, but that chapter will definitely be one of the ones coming into play when things heat up :p

All right, I'm gonna count them: 3 more posts! Like I said, I want to get to the good stuff before Thursday! I guess I can technically have it done in 2, but we'll see how it goes. I've been doing a lot of editing lately.. My beta is MIA. Hopefully it doesn't show..

* * *

I woke up in my apartment. It was odd.

Seems I remembered nothing more than what I remembered. Sam was missing, Kiers and I had gone out looking for him, and that was it.

I was back at my place, without any question, or questions answered.

Frustrated, and slightly confused, I made my way back to Kiers' house, wondering if I'd gotten stuck in a loop or time continuum, or something crazy like that. I couldn't think of any other logical explanation for the complete blackout I was suffering from; my only hope was to find Kiersa—that was, assuming she wasn't experiencing the same thing.

Turns out, she wasn't. She wasn't even there. She was camping.

"Kiers left yesterday," her sister told me as I stood at their doorstep. "She went…"

"Camping? I know. Are you sure? I mean completely, 105-percent beyond reasonable doubt, sure?"

"Yeah... With Tom." She shook her head as if I had three and laughed; I guess it was pretty awkward—me showing up, after she'd dumped me, looking for her sister. I could see in her eyes that she was ready to close the door. I had to think fast.

"You mean Ron?" I questioned curiously. (And Smooth)

"No… I'm pretty sure it was Tom." Again, she laughed uneasily, "We don't know anybody named Ron …and she and Tom go camping every Saint Patrick's Day."

She sure was beautiful, I found myself thinking. Especially when she laughed, and even when she was laughing at me because she thought I was crazy. I had to ignore that, though. I couldn't think about her now. Not with my memory and brother missing.

"Are you bleeding?" She suddenly asked, noticing the blood on my shirt.

"No, naw. It's nothing, "I laughed yanking up my shirt to show her my six-pack and unscathed skin. Unfortunately, though, I wasn't as unscathed I remembered. In fact, the cut that I didn't know I actually had, really hurt. I grunted in pain, and concern washed over her face, as I'm sure, fear spread over mine. It was then I knew to ask, the only thing I could. The only thing that made sense.

"What can you tell me about the mystical tree?"

"Maybe you should come in… Sit down. You don't look so great." She said, after that question had confirmed her suspicions of my insanity.

"Thanks," I laughed off the pain, "I think I had a rough night."

"You think?" she laughed as she stepped back to let me in.

"Yeah, I can't really remember, though." I smirked. She backed off suspiciously, and went to the bathroom. Said she wanted to get a first aid kit for my cut. I wasn't so sure I trusted her, but it seemed I was running out of options, and I already knew that I needed all the help I could get.


	25. Chapter 25

LOL! I didn't say you 'had' to go back and read it, I just thought it might be useful. There are tiny clues scattered all over the place, but I think that most of the earlier ones were overlooked. I wanted to write this out like a film--the more times you watch it, or the closer you look at it, the more you see. Not exactly sure how that worked out just yet, but one day I'll read it over with a clear mind and try to figure out how well I did with that.

Well, if you were serious about the printing, I'm very honored that you'd take the time and resources to actually print me. Especially since my first word document has about 80 pages in it, and that's only half the story! So far, anyway. I'm eager to see just how many pages this one turns out to be.. Right now, I've got about another 40 to proof--and another 40 to write! Hopefully that will get you through this year's classes :)

* * *

"Look, I'm sorry about what happened." She said reappearing in the doorway. With her, she had a wash cloth, bottle of peroxide, and one good-sized, blue-tin box. It was old, probably antique, and had a red cross painted on its cover—very much unlike the one I'd seen in her sister's bag earlier, not that it meant anything.

I blinked a couple times and zoned back into the conversation she'd started. Sorry about what? What was she talking about? Could she have been any more less-specific?

Had Kiersa told her about Sam's disappearance? Or did something happen yesterday—something I couldn't remember? Was her sister the one behind my blackouts? Was she? Maybe they were witches after all.

"What do you mean?" I smirked to keep up appearances, but still pretended not to know what she was talking about (Really, I guess, I wasn't pretending.)

"When I called you…" She started uneasy, looked away from me, and set down the metal box on the table between us. She bit her lip, unscrewed the cap on the bottle, and finished her sentence. "Said I didn't want to see you anymore."

"Oh."

I must have sounded like the world's biggest ass. There was the girl of my dreams apologizing for breaking my heart, and the only response I could muster up was a careless 'Oh'.

And the fact that I was cringing probably didn't help much, either. But let's get the facts straight, here, okay? I wasn't cringing because I knew that the antiseptic she was pouring onto the cloth would probably sting. (I was prepared for that!) It was her reaction that truly got to me, because I knew right then and there she hadn't a clue about anything. I laughed in disbelief—all she was sorry about was breaking up with me.

"I mean, uh, yeah." I said hoping to redeem myself, but that didn't make much sense in context. I tried again. "Uh. No. You know what, never mind."

With my charming-face on, I gave up trying to reply, and she gave up on whatever it was she'd wanted to say in the first place. I wish I could have just bit my tongue and shut up, but the damage had been done.

Eager to change the subject, I shook away my stammer and asked about Sam. "Have you seen Sam? My brother?"

She walked around the table and in front of me, but stopped there. Took me a minute, but I realized she was waiting for me to lift up my shirt. I did.

"I haven't seen him in a couple days," I said nervously awaiting the sting. "…Starting to worry."

"How old is he?" She smirked as the chemicals burned my skin. "I'm sure he's fine."

"Yeah. Me too." I lied abruptly, trying to hide the pain. "But it's still not like him not to call, or show up. Or Anything."

Mariah nodded unsurely, and reached to open the first aid kit; an odd silence followed. I could tell she'd picked up on my aggravated sarcasm and was afraid to say anything else. As was I.

I was about to apologize when a knock sounded on the door behind me. At first, she looked surprised, but she only shook her head and laughed. "Sorry,"

There was no reason for her to say sorry, but she said it anyway and smiled again, hesitating before she ran to the door.

"Look, that's my ride. A couple of us are going to the fair, um… If you want to come with us, you can. Who knows, maybe you'll get lucky. Run into Sam, I mean." She blushed.

As I realized she'd been flirting with me, she grabbed her jacket and turned to me. "I'd definitely throw a Band-Aid, at least, on that cut, though. It's not as bad as it looks, but still."

When I failed to respond, or even react, she opened the door and greeted her friend. "Amber, this is Dean. Dean, Amber."

I smiled, realizing it had been my cue to do something, so I grabbed a Band-Aid, held it with a smile, and made my way to the door. Politely, I shook Amber's hand and said it was nice to meet her. She only smiled, slightly nervous, and nodded.

I nodded back, unwrapped and applied the brown sticker, and silently wondered why both girls seemed so uncomfortable.

Mariah asked if I was coming. Without thinking, I accepted.


	26. Chapter 26

A movie? I don't think it's that good, but if anyone ever contacts me you'll be the first to know! I'd easily exchange the rights for a backstage pass, cameo, or something. Maybe a night with the boys--want to come? Gosh my imagination is really running wild now!!

You don't have to go crazy and reread everything, but if you do definitely let me know. I'm eager to see if I've been as clever as I think I have with it. (Or if I'm just kidding myself) Anyway, why do you have to wait 2 days? That stinks! Should I post you another chapter tonight or make you wait?? It's entirely up to you--how's that? I was thinking of going to bed early, but if you get back to me before 1130 I can probably make it happen.

* * *

"You know this doesn't change anything. Right?" Mariah asked curiously before getting into my car. "We're still… not… anything."

"Oh, yeah. Sure." I agreed persistently.

I knew it didn't change anything, and actually, in a strange way, I really didn't care. I did—but at the same time I didn't— not that that makes any sense whatsoever. I mean, it was like I had a compus built inside me screaming, 'follow that girl.' One I couldn't hear, see, or understand; I just had to instinctually follow. My brain was full of static, and nothing else made sense. I just knew I had to be near her.

No wonder I'd given Kiersa the crazy-stalker vibes.

"I do feel bad for your friend, though, Abby?" I continued the small talk without even thinking. Like a part of me had taken over.

"Abby? You mean Amber?" She rolled her eyes—the way women do when they think we're not paying attention to the words they are saying. I could have kicked myself, though, because believe it or not, I actually knew that one. I did. I mean, I'd just met her a second ago. And, come on. Amber? That's not a name I could easily forget. Brings back a lot of fond memories, but I wasn't thinking about that, nor had I been really thinking about anything. It was weird.

"Yeah." I shook my head, and smiled as my autopilot-ed Mr. Charming persona continued. "I mean, she came all the way over to pick you up, and then you wanted to ride with me?" I simply inquired, sarcastically denying the fact it could have meant anything.

She only laughed.

"Don't flatter yourself. I'm only riding with you because it would have been rude to invite and then abandon you."

She was only kidding herself, and we both knew it. The real rude-thing was having her friend come to pick her up, only to then ditch her at the last minute. But I didn't say anything. I just continued with my smile.

"Why'd you invite me, then?"

"To be polite."

I snorted. (And, as a side note, this was the point where I realized something was off.)

"What?" She snorted back.

"You're looking for your brother, I thought you might find him. End of story, no subtext."

"Oh," I shrugged. "Okay." But I kept on smiling because I knew. She was still kidding herself.


	27. Chapter 27

Oh bummer! At least it's only a day, though; I remember talking to a girl who was always a week behind--felt so bad! I'd be all excited about the new episode, and she'd barely be caught up with the week before. Made conversation a bit difficult, especially where she didn't appreciate spoilers :p

Anyway, I wish I could say this chapter would help get things off your mind, because it's not as exciting as Dean's resurrection, but, well, it is the end of Part 1 ...I'll leave it at that. Hope it is a decent substitute for the night :)

Special thanks to all of you who keep adding me to your favorite's list--it's appreciated :)

* * *

The fair was neat.

Much nicer than the last one I'd been to, and not just because the last fair… well, circus… I'd been to had been buzz-killed by a Hindu man-eater. (Let's not get into that, shall we?)

Anyway, the atmosphere was just plain nice. Relaxing, even. Fun.

It was the happily ever after I'd been looking for. My dream come true—just Mariah and me. And occasionally that Amber chick. (See? I knew her name.)

Well, like I said, the whole thing was a little piece of heaven. We walked for hours, laughing, talking, smiling. It was probably the best day of my life. I couldn't even remember why it had started off so bad to begin with. It was great, but I couldn't shake the feeling she was feeling me up. Not in the good way, but in the inconspicuous, slightly suspicious of me way. The same vibe I got from Kiersa, last I saw her, anyway.

But whatever. Kiersa was off camping, and I didn't have to worry about her or anything else. I also let the Mariah-vibes slide, because I was having too much fun to risk ruining things with paranoia. (not that I'd been paranoid… at all… any time… or anything… but you know.)

We ate hot dogs, French fries, and cotton candy. Drank sodas, an occasional beer, I even won her a stuffed bear by popping balloons with darts. All was great, until the Ferris wheel.

That's when it all fell apart.

I'd been hesitant, sure. I don't like heights, and I can't express that enough, but I had to go through with it. I guess I did feel slightly unstoppable, with Mariah by my side. Not to mention, she teased the heck out of me, and I had to do something to maintain my manly image.

"So, what you're telling me is that you're not afraid of my sister, but heights do you in? Come on. Big Baby."

She took me by the hand and that was the end of it. I couldn't argue.

The ride wasn't the bad part—it was actually better than I expected. (Nothing like that haunted plane ride with Sammy.) I was up high, sure, but even if something bad were to have happened, I knew I had a better chance of escaping there than I did 30,000 feet up in the air.

I had my exits all planned out—it would have been easy to have climbed down the frame to safety. The only flaw was that I hadn't thought of a way to save Mariah, but I was pretty sure we were safe.

She asked me what I was thinking, and I told her the truth, minus the part where I'd abandoned her, though. She told me my plan was impossible, that I'd never make it, and that I'd fall to my death before making it halfway. She said it was safer to stay put and wait for help. That was when I remembered.

She was thinking about being stuck; I was thinking about being trapped. Mechanical failure versus psychotic demon. She hadn't a clue about any of the things that scared me; we were talking about two totally different disasters.

To keep the conversation cheery, I told her I'd seen it done, once or twice before and we both started laughing. I don't know what washed over me then, but I knew it was now or never. As she sat there, smiling at me, I kissed her. She kissed back, for a second before she pulled back and apologized.

"I'm sorry. Dean. I can't—"

"You can't what?"

"This. –**That**. I didn't mean it."

"Yeah you did. Why can't you admit it? Just admit that you like me."

She shook her head.

"Come on, look. It's just you and me, and I'm literally on top of the world, here. Don't let me down."

She bit her lip and looked away, and I knew I'd been right all along. This wasn't a date. It was something else.

Maybe she did still have feelings for me, fine, but this wasn't about us. It was all a trick. I hated her.

Like a twig, my resolve snapped and I felt that evil inside me return. It burned so hot inside of me, I felt my eyes catch fire— But it was good, because everything made sense. The blackouts. The blood. Sam. Kiersa too. I remembered everything.

"What did you mean, when you asked if I was sure?" She asked slowly, "About Kiersa. Camping. Do you know something I don't?"

Oh, I knew.

I knew everything, and I couldn't help but laugh. I felt it inside me; icy flames. A darkness that knew it all, and damn did it felt good.

"She hasn't called you." I laughed. "Or checked in."

She looked up at me and skipped a breath. Like I'd stolen her thoughts. The fear in her eyes was delicious.

"That's because she's gone." I smiled. "Gone for good, and, baby, she ain't ever coming back."

I felt that fire spread through my arms and legs, and I needed to breathe to keep it from consuming me whole.

I watched her. Waited for her to react in some way as she struggled to make sense of it, but she was too shocked or too scared to do anything but stare back at me.

I beat her to the punch. "Wow, to think I was wasting my time, chasing after you, like you were something special." I stretched. "I really was pathetic."

"What's going on, Dean?" She asked, almost laughing. Trying to figure me out.

"Don't play with me." I snarled, and something in my eyes scared her bad. In an instant, her confusion turned to fear, and she didn't take a single breath afterwards. "He is so sick and tired of bending over backwards protecting people like you. Ungrateful, selfish, worthless people. It's time he sees the bigger picture."

I felt myself tempted to reach out and strangle her—shred her to teeny, tiny pieces like any demon would do—but I forced my arms back down. Couldn't bring myself to do it.

I wasn't myself, I knew that it was wrong, and I knew I had to get away from her. Real fast. I closed my eyes tightly, forced myself to breath, and for a second I thought I'd won the fight.

I apologized softly, too confused myself to even look at her. A moment passed. The evil returned, and I prayed to disappear.

I did.


	28. Chapter 28

**Shaz****- **I'm sorry!! That last chapter was supposed to be the shocker, not the stumper :) I hope this next one helps explain, but just in case it doesn't, here are the answers to your questions:

Yes, you read it right. Dean just _'disappeared'_ off the ferris wheel... Poof...in a demonic sort of way. I was hoping some of the previous posts had lead you to suspect something was off with him, but it's okay. Either I'm really great with hiding clues, or really terrible with making them... here is a quick-list of some of the ones I planted in previous chapters. (_ saga.foreverfastlane**'**com/the-clues.html ) _Just replace that apostrophe with a period, for the .com

What does Dean remember? Well, bits and pieces will start leaking through, but the simple answer is "A lot!" Basically everything, and it was way too much to write in just one chapter (plus that would ruin all the mystery--I have to have my suspense, you know.)

As a warning, the next few chapters are a complete contrast to the rest of the story. Very dark and abstract. Dean's about to meet his maker, and I won't say any more than that for now, because I don't want to ruin it for anyone. Let me know if you're still having a hard time with it, though, and I will gladly explain.

**stakemenow** - I remember you--and I'm glad I didn't scare you away with those two chapters. You are right on the money, there is definitely something evil inside of Dean. (And I'm very glad I could throw that curve ball in there.) However, I wouldn't necessarily say he "gave up." As we know, Dean never gives up--but he can be overpowered--I won't say any more than that :)

* * *

When I'd returned, to wherever it was I had been, the _darkness _spoke to me.

But it wasn't the first time. No. I had definitely heard its sound before. Somewhere. I just hadn't recognized it then.

Now I did, though, and now that I did, I knew. It had been there all along. A white noise, calling me in my sleep. My dreams, my nightmares, and even my blackouts. It had been a constant ringing in my ear—one that I had shrugged off as a mere hangover. But I heard it now, so loud and so clear, and somehow I even recognized the voice. More than that, though, I knew what it wanted. It told me everything and more. In my own words. With my own voice. I could tell the words it spoke were not just meant for me, they were from me.

We were one.

A whisper in my ear welcomed me back. Breath on my neck made my heart race, and though I felt nothing but cold fear, I smiled.

Don't know why. But I did.

"Do you remember?" She asked me softly. Fingers curling up my spine. "Do you remember the plan?"

I did, and it made me sick.

"Because, if you do remember," Her voice grew loud and bitter, "If you remember, then you sure fooled me. That little skit back there? That wasn't part of the plan. Not even close."

I knew exactly what the darkness was talking about—Mariah. Mariah hadn't been part of 'her' plan, but I didn't care, and I wouldn't apologize either. I wouldn't even speak. In fact, I couldn't speak; I could barely lift my tongue. Something was wrong. Really, really wrong.

"It's okay though." She spoke as her fingers traced playfully up my back. I tried to pull away from this madwoman's touch, only to find that I couldn't. I couldn't talk, I couldn't move, I couldn't scream, or defend myself. I couldn't call for help, or even say 'boo.' I couldn't even turn to see her face. I could do nothing but listen. And pray for mercy, or death.

I was disconnected, and yeah, it scared me out of my mind. I felt her dead fingers rest gently on my shoulder. Felt her icy breath against the back of my neck, and I wanted to die.

With everything I knew. And everything I'd done, I wanted to die.

"I forgive you." She says, another whisper in my head, "You were confused. Scared. Didn't know what was happening, did you?"

Somehow, my head shook.

It told her what she wanted to hear, but I was positive that I hadn't moved. Not an inch. I tried, and tried again, but I still couldn't. Imagine, trapped—inside my own damn body— and worse? If I wasn't her puppet on strings that meant that something else was inside me. Controlling me, like a toy car. I tried yelling, tried flailing my arms and kicking my feet, but my body didn't move. It only made me tired. Weak.

"But, now, you 'do' know." She sounded happy, for a change. "You remember. You remember how you swore to help me. Swore on your life, on your precious car. On your _brother,_ you swore to help me—you remember, don't you?"

I heard the anger return in her voice, and I thought for sure she was ready to kill me. Like some pet, her gentle hand rose to touch my chin. Her fingers turned violent, grabbed a hold of my skin and she pulled my face to hers.

I couldn't believe it.

I knew the minute I saw her, it was impossible. But, there she stood. The bitch.


	29. Chapter 29

Wow, I'm a little bummed about this season so far. Is it just me or does it seem like it's being rushed way too fast? (Not that I'm not glad Dean is back and all, but it's just not what I expected at all) And what's the deal with Casstiel? I have my predictions, if you want them, but I'm eager to hear what everyone else is thinking. The other night's eppie was pretty good, but it still just feels out of place.

**Shaz****- **Glad those clues helped sort it out, but as for your prediction? You're right with the fact that it's a familiar face, but... we'll you'll see.

**stakemenow** - Glad you're enjoying the dark side, better fasten your seatbelt, though :)

* * *

"Yuh…" I fought my hardest to speak out, but it wasn't easy. Clenched my teeth so damn hard I thought they'd break. Felt myself start to breathe again, on my own. I huffed that air like I'd die if I didn't.

For all I knew, I would.

"Yrr s..spss…sps ..dead!" I tried again, focusing all my energy into talking.

What I managed to spit out didn't make much sense, but I'd still said it, and I think she understood because she soon stepped back and laughed.

"Dean?" She studied me carefully. Amused.

Despite the strong discomfort growing in my gums, I kept my jaws locked together. Tight. I refused to let go—it was the only control I had left, and I would continue to strain if it killed me.

I forced myself to focus on breathing. Looked away from her and stared down at my nose.

"So that really is still you in there?" She said rolling her eyes. As if I made sense to her now.

I wanted to laugh. Am **I** still in here? 'Damn straight, bitch,' I thought to myself, and I would have said it, too, had I been strong enough to reply. But I wasn't. Her question, alone, threw off my concentration just enough. I stumbled, and felt myself falling. Back into that black pit I'd been lost in.

Her cold fingers brushed against my lips as her eyes scanned mine. Searching for something. Then, as if she'd known what I was thinking, she let her tongue slide across her top teeth. Offended. "Still as arrogant as ever, I see."

Just in case she _could _read my thoughts, I knew not to let my fears silence them. 'Yeah, and you're still a demonic whore.' I thought, and if I could have grinned, I would have.

She sighed and turned from me, tilting her head slightly. I saw the life leave her eyes as they quickly changed from brown, to black, to a fiery orange, and without speaking a word, I heard her say that I hadn't changed a bit.

"But, actually," She bit down hard on her lower lip with one of those snarky-half smiles. "In this new world, you're the whore. I'm the god."

My heart skipped, because I knew she was right. I hated it, but she was right. I was nothing.

"This jacket of mine? 'Meg' you called it, right? I think it's funny how much you hated her, which is why I picked it. Because I liked the way it makes you feel. Angry… And dark. But, really it wasn't as easy a choice as you might think. You sure made a lot of people angry down there, Dean. Any one of them would have easily given in to have had this chance."

Yak, yak, yak, I thought. But she just wouldn't shut up. It made me angry just looking at her, and as I wished I could strangle her, I felt my fingers move.

"Honestly," She continued, without a breath—not that the dead bag needed one, "I spent months picking out the perfect wardrobe. I mean, really, whose body do I take? Someone you killed? Someone you failed to save? One of the many blood-thirsty, vengeance-driven demons you sent a-packin'? Hell, maybe even your own father. He had a nice suit."

That was it—the push I needed to get back on my feet, so to speak. When she ever said that, I felt a spark in me that set fire to my body. Somehow my anger overcame whatever'd been inside me, and I managed to lunge for her. Unfortunately, though, I didn't make it too far. And I didn't scare her, either. She just crossed her arms.

I felt some force clamp down around my neck—brought me to my knees. She leaned over, and grabbed me by the hair. "Guess I made the right decision, after all. I knew you boys would be too melodramatic with daddy around. And you know what else? What really sealed the deal?" She leaned in closer to my face, "I love the smell of revulsion."

Between the sound of her inhaling my 'revulsion' and the fact I couldn't breathe, I nearly passed out. Fortunately, (or, unfortunately, really) she was honed in to me so well that she must have known. She tossed me aside like some ragdoll, and finally released my throat.

"You have to admit, it is a bit ironic. You only hated this body because she sold herself to the dark side, and yet here you are. Turns out you're no better than she was." She shook her head with pity, "Like your brother said, though, anyone under the right circumstances… All I had to do was offer Meg, here, a way out. A second chance. She didn't think twice, and neither did you. Aren't you both just the perfect exemplar of your kind. All the same. Greedy, selfish, and weak."

The demon blinked and the glow in her eyes faded.

"You know what I'm talking about, don't you? You must. You do. You know exactly what I'm talking about." She smiled. "It's the Deal, Dean. The one you made me to save your life. You remember."

I didn't have to wonder she was talking about. I wished I did, but I didn't. I knew.

She smiled again and, with some imaginary force, pulled me to my feet. She then picked something up off… off of something. Must have been a table? It was all too dark for me to see, but as she came closer, I could feel it. Humming in my chest. A part of me already knew what she had in her hands—it was a knife—her knife. An onyx blade, encrusted with bloody black gems. She held it up to my eyes, laid it against my cheek, and chuckled as she shook her head one last time.

"The word of a Winchester." She smirked. The glow in her eyes returned as the blade slid down my neck, "I never imagined it to be mine, but I guess anything is possible."

I still couldn't move. I wished I could, but, well, all I could do was stare into her eyes as they carefully looked over the rest of my body. Debating where to cut. The dagger danced its way down the fabric of my shirt, resting above my heart. It dug in, deep, but I couldn't feel the pain. Only fear. I knew she was dragging that knife down my chest, but it didn't hurt.

It scared me. Like her eyes. So focused. So dark.

The knife slipped under my shirt, and the cool night's air touched my stomach. All I could see were her eyes. She tore the Band-Aid from my open wound; that hurt, but nothing else did. Not her dead fingers forcefully grabbing hold of my face, or her fingernails burrowing into my skin. Not even the violent pull she used to lower my attention to what would be happening next.

She sliced me open. Just above my hip.

The cut was deep, and harsh. It retraced the old one to a T, but it still didn't hurt. Not one bit. In fact, it made me feel better.

As she cut, the blood vanished. Like watching a horror movie. Backwards. Everything in reverse. It was all just gone. The pain. The cut. The blood. All gone. Even my confusion and fog seemed to disappear, and I knew. I thought I had known before, but now I really knew. Everything, because all that remained were the memories. New and old. Past and future—all flooding my head like razors in my skull. I knew.

I knew that this wasn't the first time this blade had cut me. I remembered the first time—the thoughts raced through my mind. I'd seen her at the club, that night with Kiersa. A blur in the crowd. The blood on my shirt. Echoes in my head. The nightmares back at the motel room—they were her. All her. That night she had drugged me, cut me, infected me. I promised to help her, if she spared me the agony, but she didn't need my promise. Never did. Her darkness was in me. Had been, ever since. Hidden. Waiting.

Her plan was my plan. I was her, and she was me. We were one, and I couldn't fight it. Not any more. I'm not sure if I ever could, but that didn't matter now. It was too late.

When I'd returned, to wherever it was I'd been, the dark voice spoke to me again. I'd definitely heard it before and it was much clearer, now. So clear, it seemed almost familiar.

Somehow I knew the words weren't just meant for me, they were from me.

A whisper in my ear. Breath on my neck. "Welcome back."

I smiled.

"Do you remember, Dean?" She asked me softly. "Do you remember the plan?"

I did.

"Good." Darkness grinned. "It's time."

(insert suspenseful commercial-break noise here--ha!)


	30. Chapter 30

Okay, I posted this one a little too quickly last time... Maybe you caught it, maybe you didn't, but I'm going to try it again.

**Shaz** - I was honestly expecting a more-tortured Sam this season (Guess I'll just have to take care of that one myself!) I read somewhere that Dean wouldn't be "returning" until later on in the season because they didn't want to fall into the instantly-resolved "to-be-explored-later" stereotype. I am proud Sammy's holding his ground and acting more independent, but it's a weird change. Very repetitive, I agree, and I'm not sure I like the idea of them tackling religion, but we'll see what happens --as for 40 seconds of Sam?? That's it?! I'm outraged! If Skinner wasn't in it, I'd boycott it all together. (Although I am interested in seeing this "Hot Mom" Dean was talking about) But 40 seconds?? What? Is he going to eat half-a-bite of hamburger and disappear?

To the questions...

Yes and no... Not Meg, but "it" is definitely wearing her skin. (Gotta love that about this show!) Meg, to me, is just one of those characters you love to hate, and out of all the returning ones I enjoy her the most. Always popping up when we least expected it... Even the other night.. Ironically. Stealing my thunder. Ha! I hated seeing her "die" after Born Under A Bad Sign, so I had to bring her back.. In a sense... Hope it's not too cheesy.

Anyway, I knew that chapter would be a little confusing, but the good news is that it should be all down hill from here. Still a lot of mystery, but it's less "abstract" mystery. Dean will be settling into his new skin, and he should be easier to understand. We know he's been fighting this "Evil" inside him, and those last two chapters were an introduction to it. Strategically, I don't think I could have pulled it off any other way. (I've made it 30 chapters without a voice over, or anything other than Dean-talk; I can't give up now.) And it would have been unrealistic for "Evil Dean" to stop and reflect upon what had happened, so I needed Dean-Dean to experience it.

In a nut shell: Dean short-circuited on the ferris wheel with Mariah. Darkness "Recalled" him for troubleshooting and discovered he, himself was still inside fighting. Then, with her "magical knife" suppressed him. Leading us to... This next post!

* * *

The next thing I knew, I saw myself standing in the dark. Watching as Kiersa cared for my brother.

It was a pitiful, yet, beautiful sight—the two of them, trapped in a cage of steel and concrete. Her delicate hand on his bloody hip. I couldn't help but smile.

I saw the tension in her bones, and the weary look on her face as she wondered if he'd ever wake up. Still, nothing was as clear the fear in her eyes. The uncertainty.

The know-it-all without the answers.

On her knees, she sat, just to the left of his lifeless body; both their backs against the cold wall. I could tell that she wanted to move closer to him, to comfort him, but she wouldn't. She didn't know how. She didn't know 'him.'

She felt his forehead with her right hand. Shifted in her spot, to alleviate some of the strain she'd put on her legs, and for a near minute, she even stopped herself from breathing—just to make sure he hadn't done the same.

"She thinks he's dying." The darkness told me. I had felt her presence behind me. She'd made the hairs on my arms stand up on edge, but I hadn't said a thing. I had been too afraid.

"Quiet, or they'll hear you." I beckoned, but I don't know why I whispered. A part of me wanted to be seen. I wanted them to fear me, and beg. I wanted to hurt them so badly, but I knew I couldn't. Darkness had spoken. Her voice was a reminder to take my own advice. To stay hidden in the shadows.

It wasn't so bad, though. They were still fish in a barrel. My fish.

"No. They can't hear us." I heard her smile. Saw her jagged teeth shine as she watched Kiersa shift again, uneasily this time.

"Are you sure?" I turned to her, but her hungry eyes weren't, at all, interested in me.

"Of course I'm sure. They won't hear us because I won't let them. The same way I won't let your brother wake up. How stupid do you think I am?"

I couldn't answer that. I didn't care too, either. I knew it wasn't my place to pass judgment, and so I ignored the question. All I wanted, anyway, was to see if I'd been right. About the two of them. I knew that the Darkness had her doubts about my plan, but I didn't. I didn't know why she did, either. Didn't make sense. After all, it was the reason she'd turned me. The reason I was here. Because I knew them—or, I at least knew Sammy. Knew how he thought, how he felt, and, sure as hell, I knew how to manipulate him. Been doing it all my life, and I could make him sing and dance, if I wanted to. He was my little puppet, and I just had to pull the strings.

Unfortunately, it was hard to do that with him unconscious.

I turned, again, to Darkness for a clue, or cue, but found none. She kept her eyes on the agony before her. Savoring every second of it. I should have too, because watching her watch them felt wrong. Made me feel funny inside, so I tried not to think about it. Not thinking about it worked, and I felt better. Turned my attention back to the two of them and saw how pathetic they were.

I knew they deserved what was coming, but more than that, I knew I needed it. Like a drug, I needed to hurt them, and I couldn't wait. But I had to wait. Had to wait for Darkness to be ready.

So we watched and watched. On and on for what seemed to be hours, until Kiers' resolve eventually faded. Something inside her just caved, and after days of first aid, fleeting hope, and desperate attempts to make sense of her situation, she would finally pull my brother into her arms. Maybe to warm his cooling body, or maybe just to hold him. I can't say. But I knew she was tired.

I could see it. Smell it. Taste it.

Her soft eyes remained fixated on her own blood-stained hands, and while it would have been easy for her to have rested her head against Sam's, she kept her neck straight, refusing to rest her chin anywhere near him. Her gaze grew distant. Her breaths, slightly deeper. I could feel her pulse pounding in my ears and I saw prayer in her eyes. Wondered if she knew. If she sensed us. Watching her. Monsters, craving a kill.

Her fingers twitched, again and again, and her eyes finally closed. Not to hide her fearful tears, but to rest. Just to rest. I felt them sting shut as all that remained of her energy faded. The twitch slowly stopped as well, so either she could no longer take the feel of sticky blood between her hands, or she grew tired of playing with that ring of hers. Again, I can't say. I just know that whatever self-soothing comfort-technique she'd been trying out failed.

She must have finally realized her fate. I think it broke her.

I turned to Darkness. Her eyes were glowing fierce, but not in my direction. She barely acknowledged me, only smiled.

"When can we start?" I asked her. She must have known I was antsy, but she didn't seem to care. She only turned and left.


	31. Chapter 31

Okay, my sister brought up a very good point.

She said that the only way she'd ever accept 40 seconds of "Dean" in an episode, without boycotting the show, would be if he was naked. And as we all know, Sam was fully dressed during his brief cameo. Here's something you didn't know: last Thursday was my birthday--imagine my disappointment!

**Shaz**, you said you heard a lot of girls complaining, but I assure you--I feel more robbed than any of them. I think CW owes me big time, but until they make good, I guess I'll just have to deal like the rest of the girls :p

As for the story, I think this chapter is going to help you out a lot. I was particularly fussy and spent days editing it, which paid off. I managed to slip in a lot more than was originally intended--but, still, if you have any questions ask them!

**winchesterxgirl** - Great catch on the whole "this is a flashback story" thing. I don't know if anyone else mentioned that part :) Anyway, I hope you made it past Chapter 1, but I can't answer your question. (That would ruin all my fun!) But I will quote myself, here. This is what I told Silverbullet back in chapter 8: "_..they don't live perfect, happily-ever-after lives with their wives and many children.." _and I will add to that by saying that the "end" of this story depends entirely on the readers, but that will make more sense later on when we get to it. Until then this will have to do.

Just a warning: This may be the last update for a while, for a number of reasons. So please enjoy!

* * *

It seemed like hours had passed, but Darkness did return. Clothed in a dark robe, and carrying her blade atop a cloth pillow.

I saw only her teeth, shining in the dark, as she smiled. "Now we start."

It made sense. Waiting, I mean. Kiersa was much weaker now. I barely remembered the last time I'd seen her move and could only hope that she was still breathing. It's no fun torturing a corpse.

That was a silly thought, though. I knew she was still alive, because she was still holding on to Sam. Probably thought she was the only thing keeping him alive.

Sap.

She made me sick. But that was okay, because, deep down, my insides tingled in anticipation. I knew we would soon be playing inside the fish barrel, and I couldn't wait to tear her apart.

Darkness offered me what she had in her hands, not a pillow but a second cloak. For a moment, I thought she had offered me the knife too, but she soon took it.

"You must stay. Hidden." She said to my disliking, and though a part of me was still starving to be seen, I knew that I couldn't object. It was a part of the plan, and it was more important than my lust for torment. "Sam must not see you."

If he did, it would never work. He wouldn't trust me and he'd never turn. He'd never join us. He'd fight, until the very end, he'd fight. Die first, trying to save me. Everything would be ruined.

But a girl? An innocent girl? One he so obviously cared for? If she screamed, slice by slice, and if she cried. If she begged, for hours, to be spared the agony, then maybe, just maybe, Sam would be willing to negotiate.

It was the perfect plan. Foolproof. Especially with hopes of Dear old Dean swooping in to save the day. That's a gamble my brother would take in a heartbeat, and it's just too bad that I'll never get to see the look in his eyes the moment he realizes that fairytale ending he put his money on is... well, as pathetic as it sounds.

Once he's turned. Once he's ours. He won't care. He won't even remember.

"You should wake him, then. Make him watch." I demanded softly, knowing that, at the very least, I could enjoy that. "It will kill him inside. He'll beg you to stop."

But she already knew that, because that was the plan.

I waited patiently for her to speak, or for anything to happen, but nothing did. No one moved. Not Darkness. Not me. And certainly not our little fish... It infuriated me.

Here I was, yet again, chained back by rules and regulations. I wanted to be the one to shred the girl. Give her hell for, just for the hell of it. And I wanted to see the look on Sammy's face, too, when he saw me kill her. But no, that wasn't "the plan."

I was so sick of this stupid plan. It sucked. Making me wait and watch that pitiful fool mourn over Sammy like he was dead**. **And Darkness? She was no better. The way she just stood there? Curiously looking on like a spectator. She wasn't angry, or fueled like I was. In fact, she almost looked confused. Some leader. A coward, that's what she was. I couldn't take it any longer.

I needed to kill something, so I clenched my fists and let the fury fill my bones. Darkness must have sensed it; she tightened the grip on her blade, held me back.

"Don't make me cage you," She growled, staring me down like a hungry wolf. I thought for sure she'd kill me— felt my insides turning, and it hurt. But I knew she was just testing me.

She still needed me.

What stopped the pain, in a single second, sounded like a distressed gurgle. Not mine, or hers, but Sam's. I recognized it instantly. It was Sam.

As if in shock, Darkness whipped her head back to the captives. I did too, to try and reclaim her 'good side.' If she had such a thing, I mean. I wasn't sure why we were acting surprised, anyway. Waking him had been part of the… Never mind.

I watched Sam groan, eyes squinting open trying to recognize his surroundings. For a near minute he seemed almost content lying in the warmth of another's arms. Then he must have realized they were real. Must have felt the hands upon his hip, too—his own shot up defensively to grab them.

"That's why he never gets any." I turned to Darkness, hoping to ease the tension with a chuckle. But she wasn't too impressed, which made me wonder why she'd done it. Why she'd waken him, so soon, if she wasn't ready? Don't get me wrong, I was glad—I was tired of waiting, but Darkness wasn't happy, like me, she was angry. Again.

Something was wrong. I knew she wouldn't tell me, so I turned to get a read on our boy. An immense surge washed over me. I felt his panic set in. Felt the fears racing in his heart as he tried to piece together his situation. He hadn't a clue about anything. Not where he was, who he was with, or even what had happened to have gotten him there.

Not the time, date, or even a single memory.

"You're bleeding." Kiersa explained herself with a whisper. I think she may have even been tempted to apologize, but she never got the chance. The instant she'd said anything, Sam shot up, pulling himself away from her.

Big mistake.

The moment he even tried to sit up, his body stiffened with pain. (No doubt another shock.) He fell back, on his left side, clutching at his hip.

I felt the thoughts flying through his mind as he franticly sought out any sort of explanation. They made me dizzy. Had to close my eyes, but it still hurt. I turned my attention back to Kiersa. She was calm. Worried sick, and scared out of her mind, but calm. I felt her compassion, and it made me nauseous. She wanted to reach out, place her hand on his back, and try to comfort him. I wanted to reach out and strangle her, but neither of us got what we wanted.

We both held ourselves back, and it was disappointing. I imagined it was easier for me, though. My urge to kill faded when I thought about Darkness and remembered the stupid plan, but Kiers? She was trapped. Forced to watch my brother's pain and stuck trying to figure out a way to help him.

"Sam…" She started softly, but whatever her point had been had, it had been forgotten. Her sentence stopped, along with her thought process as my brother continued to struggle.

"Are you hurt?" He gulped, trying his hardest not to appear worried or hurt himself, but I saw through his brave-face, and so did Kiersa.

"I'll live." She faked a smile to ease his worries, but unless he had heard that smile, it was pointless. Even if he was facing her, I doubt he would have seen it. It was too dark and he was too lightheaded. With his eyes closed tight, he nodded, and took a few more breaths before finally regaining his composure.

It would have been the perfect opportunity for our attack, given the irony of Kiersa's last statement, and all. Neither of them would have even seen it coming. They were both too busy with their thinking-caps on. Sam, eyes closed, trying to be a hero. Kiers, staring off into space, trying to be a doctor. I didn't know what Darkness was waiting for. It was now or never, so I turned to her, but she was already gone. She must have been ready. I couldn't breathe I was so excited. This was it.

Kiers shook herself out of her trance and reached for her bag. After digging around in it for a few seconds, she'd found what she'd been looking for. "Here." She said, twisting open a container of some sort. "Take these. It's all I have for painkillers, but they'll do the trick."

Sam didn't move, but he did look over his shoulder, as best he could, to see her offering. Two small white pills. He sighed, hesitantly, before using his free hand to hoist himself into a sitting position. He then slowly, and awkwardly, scooted himself backwards, so that his he could rest against the wall. Leaned against it as if it'd saved his life.

As soon as he was able, he reached across with his clean hand and accepted the pills without questioning a thing. He did shake them around a bit, so he could see their blue labels, and laughed when he realized what they were.

She laughed too, embarrassed, and unscrewed the cap on her water bottle.

He winced as he debated, smiling briefly before closing his eyes. Then mumbled, "Jus don't tell.. my brother."

"Your secret is my secret. Besides, I really don't want him thinking the only reason I gave him such a hard time was because of PMS." She smiled, and held out the drink for him to take.

He smiled again too, popping the pills into his mouth before reaching for the bottle; had to take it one step at a time, because he really only had one clean, unoccupied hand.

"Finish that. You must be thirsty." Kiers instructed gently.

He took a few more slow breaths, instead, and dropped his eyes to the ground. After a minute he placed the water down too, but he didn't look back up at her. Couldn't tell if he was ashamed, or still just dizzy, but I tasted guilt.

"I have a granola bar, too." She said as her smile broke. "I usually have more, but, uh…"

A small laugh sounded as she remembered what happened to her stash of crap-bars, and before she could explain, Sam interrupted.

"Lis'sn." He shook his head, knowing she was scared. "I know what you're probably thinking. But I promise..."

"It's okay," She interrupted right back, "I don't need a pep talk."

He laughed and tried studying her, but he must have had a hard time seeing, because he didn't seem to notice the tears that filled her eyes. And if he did, he ignored them. Maybe it was easier that way, or maybe it was just too dark.

"You sure?" His eyes narrowed, "Because, there's." He stopped again to breathe, and think. "There's something I really need to tell you."

"Save your strength." She said softly, and assuringly. "I already know."

He snorted, and tried again. I could hear the frustration loud in his voice. "Okay, could you jus'listen to me? For a second? Please? I'm not really who you think I am. My brother and I… We."

"Look, Dean told me everything. Trust me. It's okay." She promised him, but he just shook his head.

"Kiers, that's the problem." He stopped, yet again, to breathe, "Whatever my brother told you he did... We do. We don't."

I thought the confused puppy-face he made would have surely shut her up, but, turns out, she was just as stubborn as he was. "You're not making any sense, Sam, you have to rest. Please?" She pleaded, but Mr. Macho failed to listen.

"I can't." He shook his head, determined, and tried to stand. "Right now, you're in danger." He gasped, reaching out to the wall behind him. He hoisted himself to his knees. "We both are," he said standing straight, and wobbly, "and you need to know the truth, about us and what we do."

I think we were both honestly surprised he made it to his feet. He looked like shit, and the fact that he wasn't all there was clear as day—but that's what happens when you bleed to death.

"You chase monsters," She said, also jumping to her feet. Her arms flew up, too, and her eyes stuck to him like glue. Watching him to make sure he was okay. "Creepy, bad-ass monsters? Things that go bump in the night…Werewolves, vampires, the boogie man, I get it. Okay?" Her voice was near-desperate as she tried to convince him that she understood.

"He told you all that?"

Sam shook his head in confusion, and he nearly fell over because of it. Caught his balance, though. It was a shame. I wasn't too disappointed, though. As much as I wanted to see the oaf knock her down, I could tell he was still likely to fall over at any point. So could Kiersa. She slowly approached him, lowering her arms only half-way to keep him calm.

"No wonder you dumped him." He laughed, trying to add a bit of humor to the situation. It was just enough to do him in. His small laugh threw off his equilibrium, just enough, and yes, the second his eyes closed, he fell. At least enough to startle Kiers. She jumped forward and grabbed hold of his jacket. Gently shoved his body to the wall behind them. I was surprised she could hold him, and so was she. But, Sam? He was just surprised by everything. His head fell forward, eyes closed, and pain took over his face.

"I don't feel…" He whispered between shaky breaths. "so great."

"You lost a lot of blood." Kiers said firmly, but he shook his head.

"There's something. I think there's something…"

"You have to sit," Her voice stopped his and opened his eyes. Like some cheesy soap, they both seemed to realize how close their faces had come to each other. She broke the silence by repeating herself. "You have to sit."

She then helped him achieve this goal. I watched her carefully guide him back down. His face barely moved; he just watched her. And when he was planted safely on the ground, she took advantage of his stare, using the back of her right hand to feel his forehead. Then his cheek. But the blood on her skin must have ruined the moment; she soon dropped her hand and looked away.

"You still have a fever," She said, trying cleaning her hands on her jeans. He didn't so much as blink.

"I'm sorry." His eyes closed again and rested his head against the wall. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

"It's okay. You're going to be okay." She said, but something in her voice changed. Her reassuring tone turned to curiosity as she noticed the blood on the rest of his shirt. She yanked it down just a bit to see the scratches around his collarbone, but they were all freshly healed.

"N, how you know..that?" He mumbled.

"I don't. Not exactly," She said staring over the marks on his chest, "I just know sometimes. A gut feeling, I guess, but everything is going to be all right."

"Hhu, scared?"

Given her response to that question, I think it loosely translated to _Aren't you scared? _

She laughed. "Look at me, I'm terrified. But I've learned to trust what I feel. It sounds crazy, and even though the red flags are up and voices are screaming in my head, I know we're going to be okay. I promise."

"It's not crazy." He said refocusing himself with a small laugh. With his mind more clear, it suddenly occurred to him that her fingers were still curled inside his shirt. Against his skin. His head dropped to study this situation, but that hand caught him. Lifted his face back to hers.

"Good, so stay with me." She smiled, and though she had just misread his actions, I know she figured it out. Something in his eyes caught hers as his cheek fell into her palm. Drawn to her touch. He reached out with his hand to brush back her long bangs. "You're bleeding too." He said, staring into her eyes. Ignoring the gash on her forehead.

As I wondered if he thought that had sounded, at all, romantic, I was also wishing I had smacked her around just a little bit more. Where would this conversation have gone had she been more bruised, or maybe even mutilated? What would he have said then? Would they still be so ready to kiss? And where was Darkness? What had happened to her mighty, sacred plan? I should have been angry, but honestly? I wasn't. I was… happy. Happy that Darkness had bailed, and happy that Sam was finally conscious enough (and man enough) to make a move on the girl. I was happy, about all this, because I'd finally get to kill them. Both of them.

It was pretty obvious I was the only one who cared about anything, anyway. So why should I suffer any longer? Why shouldn't I ruin the moment? Why shouldn't I kill them?

I waited, just long enough for their lips to touch, figuring then, and only then, would be the perfect time to rip them apart. But something happened. In an instant, my brother's face crumpled with pain, and before their lips touched, he turned away and fell into her shoulder.

"Sam?" She gasped. Her hand fell to his shoulder, and she tried to lift him, but he turned away.

"That ring?" He asked after a minute of hard breathing. "What about your fiancé?"

* * *


	32. Chapter 32

_Season 2 Spoiler Warning_:

Croatoan? Anyone not see it? Seriously? :) I suppose it's possible, so here is the warning: referencing ahead. I probably should have been noting them from the start. (IE Heart, Born Under a Bad Sign, Skin... Everyone Loves a Clown.. Maybe a few others...) Have I done this before? I've got that déjà vu, feeling. Oh well.

**Shaz** – You know this is your birthday post, so **_Happy_**_ (VERY BELATED) _**_Birthday_**!!

The episodes have been a lot better, but I still haven't forgiven the CW for my horrible birthday--I'm definitely holding out for my naked Sam and while on the subject I'd like to post this very delayed yet important reaction: GOD NO!! Not naked 'with' Ruby (Ick! Gag! Eww!) I was thinking a nice shower scene, or one of those 'forgot-my-clothes' nightmares? Maybe even a freak bathing-suit accident? But, as fun as it is to ponder, I'll stop while I'm ahead and get to the story…

Anyway, I hope you had a great B-Day, way back when, and I'm sorry this post was so incredibly late!!

* * *

"Fiancé?" Kiersa blinked, "Oh... Woah… Wait, it's not… No. **No**" She laughed away the thought. "It means nothing."

"Then why wear it?" Sam asked, cold-hearted.

I thought it curious that her genuine surprise hadn't been enough to convince him. I believed her, but then again, I'd seen her eyes. He hadn't. His were still focused away from her, locked on the ground. That was curious too.

See, I know my brother, and for him to have sincerely asked that question, he would have needed a sincere answer—one that he would never have trusted to his ears alone. He would have made damn sure she wasn't lying. Would have stared deep into her blue eyes to find the truth, no matter how painful—but he didn't. He didn't really want it. He didn't look. Not because it didn't matter, I know it did, but because he was still playing hero.

I saw right through him.

Even if on some level he had wanted an answer—and even if he believed the one he got—he would not allow himself to hear it. He was deliberately being difficult. Those questions he had asked, they had been convenient decoy questions. Excuses, to keep her at arms length. He didn't really care to know about this potential lover, and he hadn't turned away because of some ring; he'd had a vision.

He didn't want to involve her, but why? I couldn't tell, but it had to have been something big for the sudden stonewall to have been set so high. To go from a near kiss to angry accusations in a matter of seconds—talk about mixed signals. And that confused look on her face as she tried figuring him out? It, alone, would have killed him, and that's why he wouldn't look at her.

The whole situation was priceless. Classic Sam. And while I wished, more than anything, I could have stuck around to watch her futile attempts to get through to him, I couldn't. I knew I had to warn Meg—er, Darkness, and so I left to do just that.

I'm still not sure what crazy impulse lead me to actually 'want' to inform her of that latest development, but I assure you it had seemed necessary at the time. Of course, it was only after I had entered her lair that I realized the mistake I'd made in caring.

"You! Idiot!" she snapped and with no more than a harsh look I felt my throat lock up. I fell to my knees, gasping for breath, but it was no use. I was being strangled, by her will alone.

"Rivergrove. The virus. Do you remember it?" She growled. Anger filled her eyes.

I nodded, frantically. Sure, I would have said anything at that point, but I actually did remember.

"Good." She said, but, contrary to the term she used it was evident that all was not 'good.' That anger in her glare didn't waver, and a few of my ribs snapped. I felt dizzy and thought for sure I was dead. Saw white lights and everything—but she wasn't done with me. Not yet.

"And do you have any idea why our little Sammy wasn't infected?"

No. The answer was no. No, I didn't know. Nor did I care to. I just wanted air in my lungs, and I'm glad she finally got that memo. She soon released me from her death grasp. My body fell to the cold concrete and her head shook in disgust. Then, she turned from me, refusing to look as I panted in pain. And confusion.

"Because he's not human, and neither is the witch." She answered, as if it had been so obvious. "You were supposed to bring me a girl, and I thought that you, a hunter of all people, would have been able to look past her anatomy to tell the difference. I should have known you were too stupid to do anything right."

Her mission to degrade me had been successful, but I wasn't complaining. At least I could breathe. And, honestly, what did it matter? You could kill a witch, just like you could kill my brother, and as I debated how Sam's immunity could have possibly been relevant to the butchering of his would-be girlfriend, it dawned on me. Darkness never intended on killing her—which was why she'd brought her knife in the first place. She'd been planning on turning her. Into one of us.

But even that didn't matter. Kiersa wasn't a witch, and when I felt strong enough to tell her that, I did. "She's not a witch." I gasped truthfully. Still obedient. "She doesn't even know she has it in her."

"It's not about knowing, it's about having. Or haven't you learned anything?" She shook her head once more and smirked. "Forget it, it doesn't matter. She's protected, like your brother. Unlike you."

I heard a chuckle, and when her eyes returned to mine, I saw that glow in them. That evil, orange glow. It sent a chill through me, because I just knew that it was all over. Her hand rose, along with a smile, and I felt nothing but agony. Pure, hard pain. Icy pins and burning needles, tearing through my skin. My mouth hung open, wide, as I felt her rip the darkness from me. I begged and I screamed for her to stop. Gasping and groaning as I watched the blackest black steam pulled from my body. And, despite my agony, she didn't stop. She just continued on smiling, like she was getting off on it. She breathed a deep breath and frowned a fake frown as she shrugged and watched me die.

"It's a shame. Killing you."

It was a shame, and I knew why. I could feel it inside her head, as her thoughts silently apologized. She wanted to keep me around, regardless of the mess I'd made. After all, I was her secret weapon, and even with my rookie mistake, she still thought I might have a bigger role to play in her plan. She was right, but at that point, I'm not sure I even cared.

I was sick of being her dog. Tired of being commanded (and kicked) whenever she felt like it. I was done, and I welcomed death. Even more than that, I was almost happy.

I had lost, sure, but I knew that she had lost too. Sam's vision had to have been about her and her stupid plan, which only meant that he would find a way to stop it. Somehow. Some way. He would stop her, and I could die happy knowing that she'd be right behind me. Knowing that sooner or later, her precious 'work' would come undone, and she'd be just as miserable. And after that? Well, you do know what they say about payback, and I couldn't wait.

Unfortunately, though, I would have to. See, the one thing I didn't count on (or remember) during that little epiphany of mine was her keen mind-reading ability. The second I even thought about her demise, she knew it.

The pain stopped, and the evil returned. Flooding my body faster than I could believe. Curiosity filled her eyes and fear filled mine. My heart stopped. I heard nothing but silence.

"What did he see?" She asked softly. Slowly. Cautiously. And for the first time, I saw fear in those gleaming eyes of hers. For the first time, I held the power. It felt good.

"Why should I tell you?" I smiled, feeling a sense of pure cockiness wash over me— but when the obvious answer appeared in her eyes, I knew I had to add on some fine print. I got back on my feet and casually scratched the back of my neck. "Oh, and don't give me that 'because I'll kill you spiel' In case you haven't noticed, there's a simple equation here. I die-you die. Got it?"

"You left out a factor, Dean. Sam's a jackpot, not a necessity. I can still kill him."

"Oh." I laughed confidently, "Can you?" I smiled, knowing that if I could just keep her believing that I knew something, I'd stand a chance. I just didn't think that I would have blown it so quickly by thinking that (Again, I forgot about the mind-reading, and she caught my bluff.)

"What do you know, you really are that pathetic. I give you the powers of gods, and you don't even use them? You seriously didn't feel around in his head? Peek inside? See what he saw? You what? Just stood there? I take it back, killing you isn't a shame. It's a must."

"Wait!" I begged after shortly reconsidering the death option. Now that the pain had gone, the nobility behind it had vanished as well, and I didn't really want either of them back. "I can still help you. I can turn her."

"Are you stupid or just deaf? We can't turn her. Not unless she'll willingly convert, which she won't, so this was all just a big waste of time."

"Same question," My words spilled out, and I instantly regretted not being able to bite my tongue. "Look, I can turn her! I Swear."

"It won't work." Her eyes rolled, and though the glow in them faded, the skepticism remained.

"I didn't even tell you…" I spoke angrily—furious that she wouldn't at least hear me out, but I wasn't thinking.

"You didn't have to tell me. I can read your mind, remember?"

"Oh."

Whether I said "Oh" or thought "Oh," I don't know, but I do remember some form of it escaping my brain, because my situation sucked. I was screwed. I closed my eyes, tight, knowing I had absolutely no way of saving myself. I could only wait for her to kill me. So, I waited. Took a deep breath and waited, but nothing happened. I squinted open an eye to see if that burning glow had returned in her eyes, but it hadn't. And neither had the pain.

"I'll give you one day." She said to my surprise. I studied her carefully as a possibility of hope appeared in a soft smile.

I'm sure that same expression was on my face, too, but I wasn't ready to gloat. Instead, I nodded affirmatively, and made my way back to the fish barrel.


	33. Chapter 33

**Shaz **- Your comment inspired a question which invoked a thought that sparked a memory-I thank you! Although, I'm not sure I can explain it.

Basically, I couldn't remember why I placed this story after Croatoan. I'm not particularly fond of "insert" stories, so it's always bothered me that I never included the last 5 episodes- I knew there had to have been a reason, I just couldn't remember it-until you brought up the immunity thing. I wrote that in specifically because I was frustrated with the writer's strike! I also wanted to know why Sam was immune, but I wasn't getting any answers from the show because it wasn't on TV for weeks at a time-which also explains why I was able to write so much. (Normally, I do my writing during the off-season because I'm too excited about new episodes to focus on developing my own ideas. But because of the strike, well, I think that's obvious) Anyway, thanks again!

What did Sam see? Is Dean still evil? All in good time. But I'll warn you now, the chapter 34 is going to be another curve ball. Don't let it fool you :)

Ep7 was amazing! 8 Was great, but Metamorphosis might be an all time favorite! I just loved it! Not so sure how I feel about this new Anna character, and I'm definitely not looking forward to seeing Ruby again, but we'll see. They've been on a roll-hopefully they'll keep it up.

* * *

There I stood, in the dark, holding that evil blade. Watching them.

Sam was brooding on one side of the cell, and Kiersa, on the other, was still trying to make sense of things. She was deep in thought, wondering what she'd done wrong and what she could say to fix it. She was also the first to notice.

I saw that contemplative look disappear from her face. Saw a fear fill her eyes, and she looked right at me. Like she knew. She couldn't see me, but she knew I was there.

She tried listening for me, held a deep breath, but heard nothing. She tried calling for Sam, but stopped before she'd spoken a sound. Took one look in his direction and decided not to bother. She just stared back at me. Knowing.

I'll admit, it made me uncomfortable, even if it was foolish to think she knew anything at all, it still felt like she did. My face grew hot, and I felt my heart start to beat. Harder. Faster—I was nervous. Sort of like the way you feel when you suspect someone knows all your secrets. Only, she didn't know any of mine, so why did I feel this way?

"It's not about knowing, it's about having." Darkness repeated in a whisper. "Do you still think you can change her?"

I looked away. Down at the blade in my hand. I knew that I could do it. Kiersa wasn't like Sam. Or me. She didn't know the things we knew, and she could easily be tricked into this. If the right situation presented itself, she'd be ours.

"Kill Sam." I said handing the knife to Darkness. She looked at me curiously.

"You need him to do your heavy lifting, I get that. But you need to trust me, here. This is the only way."

Darkness shook her head. "You don't understand." She said, but I did. I read her like a book. It was the first time I actually remembered using my powers on her, and it felt good. Made me feel stronger, like I was feeding off her energy.

"I know what you're afraid of." I smiled. "You don't want to corner the witch, because you don't know what she's capable of. You don't know her strength."

I thought back to the day Sam had discovered his telekinetic abilities. He hadn't a clue about them either, but, like Darkness said, it wasn't about knowing. It was about having. Kiers also had some inborn ability, and it scared Darkness. Honestly, it scared me too, which is why I suggested that she be the one to kill my brother. But this wasn't just about me saving my own ass. I wanted her to kill Sam because I knew she wouldn't be able to. Because I knew Kiers would stop her. I just didn't know how, so maybe I was just saving my own ass. The way I saw it, though, there were only two possible outcomes. The first being Kiers would intervene physically to save my brother; she'd jump right in and try to fend off Darkness with kicks and punches. The second scenario—which was obviously less favorable and far less likely— would be if she'd stop Darkness mystically. I say 'less likely' because I highly doubted Sam's death would be enough trauma to trigger anything more than a human reaction from her. She barely knew him, and, yeah, she'd be sad, but his death wouldn't threaten her. Not in the way Sammy had been threatened the day he saw my brains blown out. No, this was different.

"Trust me. It will work." I smiled again, and when she finally did trust me she smiled back and opened the cage. The instant those metal bars clanked open, Sam became alert. His eyes scanned the dark, trying to find the source of the noise. Kiersa just knew.

"Was that you?" My brother whispered across the way, but through the darkness he saw Darkness. He tried jumping up as soon as he saw her cloaked figure approaching, but she raised her hand—which kept him still. She then placed that mighty hand against his forehead, and a soft glow shut down his mind. When his eyes closed, and his body turned idle, she took out her blade and began cutting. The same spot, right above his hip.

I watched Kiersa, and though she could hardly see what was happening, she knew it had to have been something bad. Horror filled her eyes as she watched Darkness lean over my brother, but she made no effort to stop her or figure out what she was doing to him. She just sat there, paralyzed by fear.

I bit my lip, wondering how I could have miscalculated her reaction. I closed my eyes and tried looking inside her head, but she was so afraid she wasn't even thinking. She was just blank. Empty. It made me feel good. Strong. I had done that to her, and I wanted her to know it. I wanted to laugh, to scare her even more by making my presence known, but I didn't. I held back.

Darkness, though? She didn't. She couldn't wait any longer—she was running out of places to cut so she laughed long and hard, and, when that hadn't been enough to get a reaction out of the girl, she quickly changed the strokes of her weapon. Instead of adding another slice to Sam's bloodied abdomen, she jabbed the blade into his shoulder and dragged it down his chest. A move that surely caught Kiers' attention.

The violent gesture was enough to force her look away. She finally saw the knife and what was happening with it, and she obviously couldn't stand to watch. I saw her mind notice and fixate on the exit, and when she finally found the courage to stand, I thought she was ready to make a run for it. I heard desperate logic racing through her mind—she thought she could get away. Get help. She even thought that Darkness might abandon Sam to chase her. She thought it was the only way, until she saw Darkness raise that blade one last time, preparing to thrust it deep into my brother's gut. It was only then that she overcame her fear and found the courage to speak out. As she saw that knife, and its intended path, she hollered a desperate, "No!"

Darkness didn't listen. Not entirely, anyway. She did soften the stab, and smiled to herself as she added another deep cut across his chest. It wouldn't kill him, but it would be just enough to push Kiers over the edge.

The fact that the attacker had listened, and had spared Sam of that fatal blow, only encouraged Kiers to try again. She yelled out in a much stronger voice "Stop it! Get away from him!"

This time, Darkness stopped. She didn't look up, or even back at Kiersa, she just kept her eyes on Sam and placed that bloody dagger on the ground. Then, she used her powers to slide it back to Kiersa.

With such a taunt, and such temptation, I was surprised that Kiers had to think twice. She must have experienced one of those 'it's a bad idea' moments, because she hesitated and took the time to thoughtfully examine her situation—that is, until Darkness coaxed her into making a hasty decision.

After losing the little patience she had, Darkness roused my brother to a barely-conscious state, then stuck her fingers deep into his torn flesh. Sam couldn't react, or make sense of the pain, but he could definitely feel it, and his discomfort was heard in low, painful, groans. Kiers couldn't take the sound of my brother's agony. She no longer cared to debate whether or not that knife was too good to be true; she just grabbed it and charged towards my master. I knew that was my cue to step in.

I reached out from the dark and grabbed a hold of the back of her neck.

Like a kitten, she succumbed. Her tense body fell limp in my grasp, and she instantly dropped the dagger. The fool. She probably could have fought me off with that, but now she was defenseless. Mine. I grabbed hold of her throat with my other hand, which sparked a momentary fight in her—as it would in any person about to be strangled. She grabbed my wrist with her claws, and tried so hard to hurt me. I only squeezed her tighter until she gave up.

The fear radiating from her was intoxicating. I felt the panic in her mind and couldn't help but laugh. A madness washed over me and I felt so strong. So powerful. I pulled her to me, breathed down her neck and whispered in her ear. "That's not how you save him."

My words sent an amazing chill through her body. Her heart began to throb, and I wondered what it was that had scared her—was it what I'd said? Was she afraid of what I'd ask of her? Or had it been the way I'd said it? Breath upon her skin. Maybe she just recognized my voice. I buried my face deep in her shoulder, and whispered, "Do you really want to play hero?"

She didn't answer, which was probably because she couldn't breathe, so I decided to be generous. I let my hand slide up her neck, dug my nails deep into her skin and requested a reply, "YES OR NO?"

She still didn't answer.

"You can save him, you know. He doesn't have to die. Not like this. Not like an animal." I said through my teeth, as I thought about breaking her jaw. Could have crushed it in two, but I didn't. Instead, I just pulled her face towards mine.

"ANSWER THE QUESTION!" I snapped as she saw me. The fear in her eyes hardened as my face confirmed her suspicions. I could tell she wanted to spit at me, but I tightened my grip on the back of her neck. She closed her eyes. Winced in pain.

"I'll ask you one more time." I shook my head, but before I could even repeat my question, she shook her head, eyes closed. Yes. I shoved her down, grabbed her hair, and dragged her behind me.

Her feet scurried as she tried to keep up with me. When they found a bit of traction, she tried resisting, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle. I just yanked her hair the right way, and she gave up. Then, when we were back in the chambers, I tossed her to the ground again.

"No wonder you're alone and miserable." She growled, trying her hardest to catch her breath. "You pathetic bastard."

"Oh, don't flatter yourself." I smiled, reading her thoughts. "This isn't payback for the misery you put me through, you over-controlling, over bearing bitch." I said with a phony smile. It felt good to clear the air, but nothing was better than the irony. "Funny, though, how things work themselves out, isn't it?"

"What do you want?" Her voice scowled in confusion, but before I had a chance to answer, Darkness beat me to the punch. She entered her chambers slowly, hoping not to threaten Kiers. I could tell, just by that, that her lack of people skills was going to cause a problem. Kiers went from being angry with "Dean" to being uneasy in seconds.

"We want you." Darkness spoke out softly, wiping the bloody dagger on the sleeve of her cloak. I doubt she realized how creepy that was for any mortal being to witness. I saw the fear in Kiers's eyes return, and I knew I had to stop it. I couldn't manipulate her if she didn't trust us.

"See, all you have to do is cut yourself." I interrupted with a smile—trying to make light of the situation. Unfortunately, Kiers didn't seem eager to buy my 'walk in the park' sales pitch. She studied me carefully, like she'd studied the knife back at the cell. Like a fish staring at a baited hook.

"One cut. One little, tiny cut, and this will all go away." I promised, but she just laughed and shook her head.

"How stupid do you think I am?" She asked with a cold stare. I knew in her head she was tempted to listen—she was willing to hear me out, but didn't want me to know it. I chose to ignore this indifference.

"Good question." I nodded, "Well, let's take a look at your options. You can either die a slow, agonizing death being gutted like a fish, or walk away with one little ow-ey. Personally, I'd go with the slow agonizing death, but that's just 'cause it's more fun for me." I laughed, entertained by the thought of cutting her open.

"And what about your brother?" She rudely interrupted me. I just scoffed.

"What? Sammy? If you can keep him out of my way, you can keep him."

"You expect me to believe that?" She laughed again. I couldn't believe she was still playing hard ball, but I knew how to knock the game out of her. I smirked.

"Nope. I expect you to ignore my gracious offer, and die a slow agonizing death. Hope you don't have a problem with that, because I sure as heck don't." I shrugged and reached out to grab her. But, knowing the only place she'd be going was back into her cage, she quickly changed her tune. Her hands went up defensively, to keep me away.

"Fine. You know what." She pulled up the sleeve to her sweatshirt and reached for the blade. "Give me that."

Darkness smiled, but held it from her and looked to me.

"What are you forgetting, Dean?" Darkness asked as if I was a child. I hated that, but I suppose it beat the alternatives. When I failed to respond, she stepped in, and I prayed she wouldn't blow this chance. We were so close to turning Kiersa, but I knew one wrong move could ruin everything.

"You're a very strong woman, stronger than you even know. Cutting yourself does nothing for me. It's your promise I need." Meg smiled.

"What are you talking about?" Kiers asked trying to make sense of things. I could tell Darkness was making her uneasy again, so I stepped in.

"You need an oath, Kiers. Chips on the table. Something to swear by. What are the three most important things in your life? Three things you can't live without."

"I'm not telling you that." She shook her head, and I thought we'd lost her, so I shook mine.

"Then you're not leaving here alive. Neither is Sam." I crossed my arms and waited. Watched the resolve fade before she snapped in desperation.

"Yeah, What about you? Hm?" She asked in fear and in anger. "What was your deal? Your word?"

"Me?" I laughed, but she got me thinking. "I only have two things, in this world, remember? My brother and my car." I paused a minute to think about it, and it hit me. I hadn't seen my car in days. "Speaking of, how's she doing?"

Kiersa scoffed. "You're sick, you know that? You're watching your brother die, and all you can worry about is your damn car? I guess I see your priorities."

I felt angry, and an ounce of humanity sparked inside me. I grabbed her right by the throat and shoved her up against the wall. "Don't you ever question me on how much I love my brother, you hear me?" I snapped. I felt right again, too. Like I was me again, but it didn't last. That darkness took hold of me once more. I backed down and let her loose, and as I wondered what had come over me, Darkness stepped in and handed Kiers the blade.

"Your call."

Kiers took the blade, shook her head, and looked to her arm. Then she sliced it open without a second thought. I watched her blood drip down, past her elbow, and to the cement floor below. She swallowed hard, and closed her eyes as the darkness worked its way inside. I saw it take hold of her, its sheer force stole her breath, and as she struggled to reclaim it, she dropped the knife.

"Now what?" I asked, watching as Kiers grew weak.

"Now?" Darkness smiled. She picked up the weapon and turned to me-something I should have noticed. "Now, you save your brother."

"Save my brother?" I asked confused, but as I turned to see her, I felt a sharp pain in my side. Before I could even realize that she stabbed me, I felt the world go bright. The tension in my body released, like air from a balloon. I just felt free. Even when I hit the ground, I felt nothing but free.

"Yes." I heard her say, and everything went dark again.


	34. Chapter 34

Boo! Surprise! Happy New Year!! It has been a while, hasn't it? I hope all of you are well, safe, and happy!! Did Santa get you everything you wanted for Christmas? Was your New Years extra spectacular? I was in New York, not for the ball drop, but for a vacation the weekend before, and I had a blast. Lot of inspiration there in that city, I tell ya! Hopefully it will stick with me now that I'm back!

Here is just a little tidbit to warm up. I'll try to get more posted this weekend, but for now enjoy!!

**Shaz -** Thanks for the awesome review, but don't count your chickens before they hatch (wink. wink.)

Sam/Ruby-- I'd definitely call it rape! He really didn't want to go there, but she took advantage of his drunken and emotional state... If I ever get my hands on her!! Ha! But, wow, this season has just depressed me. Not what I expected at all!!!

**stakemenow -** Welcome back!! What a happy day it was to have another e-mail in my 'review' folder. I do apologize for the length. I certainly didn't anticipate on writing so much, but I had to add more here and there for consistency and it sort of snowballed into a huge, fun project. I'm also glad you like my evil-Dean, because I really, REALLY enjoy writing him. It's a lot of fun, and it's even better to have someone else enjoy him :)

* * *

I woke up in the light.

My brain hurt like a bad-whiskey hangover (or worse assuming worse things exist, but you get the picture.) I felt nauseous and sick, and even if they were the same thing it didn't matter—at that point I just wanted to scream.

I wanted those horrible feelings to stop. I wanted the world to stop spinning, and I wanted the sun to stop burning my eyes. I almost wanted my heart to stop beating, because it seemed pain was laced with every pump of blood it sent throughout my body. But screaming? No, that wouldn't accomplish or relieve anything, and even if it would it was something I couldn't do. My mouth was so dry I could barely swallow—my lips stuck together like they'd been glued. I gave up on screaming and closed my eyes instead. I couldn't believe the light. So bright. Like I'd been stuck in the dark for years.

I closed my eyes tighter and took a breath or two, then blinked them open to try and force them to adjust to the light. A minute or two later, when I figured out that I'd been—for whatever reason—sleeping in the woods in the middle of no where, I laughed.

That figured, right? How can someone get that drunk and 'not' wind up out in the woods. Anyway, as I wondered if I'd ever been in this situation before, I familiarized myself with the trees, rocks, and dirt around me, and when I was sure that I didn't recognize any of it, I stood up, blinked a few more times, then staggered off as dignified as I could.

Since I had no real direction, I decided to travel down hill—not only because I was lazy, tired, and hung over, but because… Well, that was it, really, but it didn't matter because it paid off. Not a minute had passed when, in the clearing, I saw the house. The Mill Hill house.

Seriously, what a crappy name. I mean, you'd think that with a name like Mill Hill the place would have been built at the top of the hill, but there it was hidden away at the bottom.

Anyway, I recognized it the second I saw it was a house. The memory snapped back into my head like a rubber band. I knew I'd been there with Kiersa—but how I had gotten here from there was a mystery.

A few scenarios played out in my mind, but none of them made any sense whatsoever. In fact, the more I tried to piece things together, the more concerned I became. It didn't make sense for me to get so wasted while Sam was M.I.A. Not to mention, it was pretty uncharacteristic of Kiersa (who was now, also, M.I.A. Unless, I was M.I.A… But either way, something wasn't right.) It hit me, even more, as I was wobbling into that house. The second the door opened, I just knew that something wasn't right. And it was more than just the smell that made me want to gag—it was an ensemble of blurred memories too. They rushed through my mind as the all but pleasant odors of mold, decay, and fire registered in my brain. Unfortunately those memories were gone faster than I could recognize them.

I breathed again, hoping to once again spark some remembrance of what had happened, but the smells only made me sicker. I tried to think back, to make sense of anything, but I couldn't. I couldn't get past the cloud of black nothingness—I couldn't remember a damn thing about what had happened.

I hollered for Kiersa and Sam just in case either of them could here me, but no one hollered back. I yelled once more, for anybody, but all that replied was silence.

By then, I was feeling a little better. Not entirely myself, but better. Well enough to be objective. The fear and adrenaline I had, running through me, was sobering. (Plus it helped that I was now indoors and away from the harsh sun) Anyway, the place still gave me the creeps, which really says a lot, because creepy is practically my middle name. Well, it's my job, anyway. Creepy is my job—but whatever, the point is the parlor floor creaked, the kitchen was burnt and bare, and the stairs in the living room were rotten. The draft in the place, probably from the oversized chimney, was bone chilling, and all the walls were stained black. The only thing missing from this nightmare was the ghost, so I challenged it humorously. "All right," I hollered, "I know you're in here. So why don't you just come out here and fight like a… whatever the hell you are."

The bit of comic relief I tried using to ease the tension failed miserably. I noticed then that my humor worked a whole lot better when Sam was there to laugh, which reminded me I had to focus. I had to save him. I had also come to my senses, and realized that I'd been pretty foolish in hollering out. It occurred to me that I had no weapons or defense against 'whatever the hell it was.' I returned to the kitchen and searched for some sort of weapon—a cross, iron, a pan, a broom, anything. Unfortunately the cabinets were empty, as were the shelves and drawers. And as I wondered what sort of a person lived in a house without pots, knives, or table salt, I heard a noise above me.

Quietly, I listened, and sure enough it repeated. I had no choice but to sneak up the rotten stairs unarmed. At least, then, I'd know what I was up against.


	35. Chapter 35

Shortly after realizing that the Mill Hill house was not haunted, I made my way back down the rotten stairs. Sorry, I don't mean to jump around, and I know you're probably curious as to what had been making those noises, but I assure you it's irrelevant. Rat infestations are actually quite common in the area, or so I've been told—and I'm telling you I didn't run, scream, or even so much as flinch when I figured out what was 'really' going on in that place. But, like I said, totally irrelevant. It was time for plan B.

My next move was to grab my wheels (assuming, and hoping, of course, that my car was still where I thought it was,) so I went around the back of the house to try and find the path Kiers had brought me up. I never made it, because something else had caught my attention. A crushed can of mace.

Interesting, right? I mean, those things are usually pretty durable, and for it to just be crushed like that? I couldn't imagine what could have done that, but I knew I needed to find out, so I forgot about my car and continued down that path instead.

A few other things caught my attention: broken branches, some torn cloth, and a patch of what appeared to be dry blood on a stone marker—all things that indicated someone had run down this path in fear for her life (and I say 'her' only because I noticed a small, brown shoe by a giant rock.)

Now, call it man's intuition, ESP, or whatever you want, but in that moment, I knew something was seriously wrong. It's not like a woman to ever, simply, leave a shoe behind. Naw, see, I know that a woman would rather leave her leg than her shoe, so I knew that that shoe was a clue—or something. So I bent over and picked it up.

It looked unscathed, smelled… like a shoe. I'd been just about ready to write it off as a randomly discarded shoe when something struck my gut like a pile of bricks. For a split second, I knew I'd seen the shoe before. I just couldn't remember where.

It, too, dawned on me that I needed to stop drinking, but as I reached for my sore head, I felt a gash that convinced me alcohol had not been the source of my amnesia. Blurred images, again, flashed through my memory. I wished I could have hit the 'pause' button, or slowed them down, but they came and went before I could process them. I heard a lot of voices, clanking glasses. Laughter and screams. A strong hiss.

I gulped, shook my head, and held the shoe away from me, which ironically brought to my attention the fact that the giant rock was more than just that. From the right angle it was actually, what appeared to be, a small cave—and though it seemed too coincidental, I entered, knowing that answers (and shade) had to be inside.

I kept the shoe, just in case I ran into any unsavory cave-dwellers. Though I met no unsavory ones, I definitely ran into one cave-dweller. Or, a cave captive, at least. A good ways in that small cave, I found an even smaller cove. Cracks in the rocks around gave me a clear view of you-know-who trapped in side. As always, Sam managed to get caught up in God knows what. Only him, I swear!

I hollered to him softly, moving as many rocks as I could in the meantime.

"Sam. Sam. Sam!" My voice whispered. I was yelling as softly as I could, but he was still asleep. Or something. I didn't know what was wrong, and I certainly couldn't tell from where I was standing. So I did what any brother would do in this situation, and I chucked that shoe at his head.

It missed, not that my aim was off—just my angle—it hit him square in the back. He jumped a bit, groaned, and then sat up slowly in shock. He looked around, holding his stomach as if it hurt, found the shoe with his eyes, and then found me. With a loud breath, he asked if I'd thrown the shoe at him.

I laughed and answered, "Nah."

He chuckled, but clenched his stomach tight.

"You okay?" I asked, he tried to shake his head 'yes' but barely moved it. I could tell he wasn't okay by the fact he was barely breathing, and when I saw the blood that stained his shirt, I think my heart stopped. I had to get him out of there.

"Come on, get up!" I tried to sound comforting, but I don't think it worked. He just winced at me and tried 'not' to lay back down.

"Come on, Sammy. I can't get in there." I said because I couldn't. Even if I could somehow manage to squeeze down the narrow opening, I wouldn't be able to climb back out, and I couldn't count on him to help me. The most I could do was offer a hand to pull him out.

"Sam, we gotta get you out of there. Come on."

He pieced together a few things, mainly he was trapped below, and that I was stuck outside trying to help him; that was it. He stood up, stiffly, and made his way towards me, until he stopped.

"Wait." He said dead in his tracks. I could see he was trying to think of something, but it hurt.

"Wait? For what??" I snapped, but it only made him shake his head and blink. He turned around, nearly fell over, then staggered off out of my view. I tried my best to position myself so that I could see him, but it was useless.

"Kiers's here." His voice echoed.

"Are you sure?" I asked, because I sure as heck didn't see her—but then again I couldn't see much. His steps stopped, and he stood silent for a minute. He must have just been staring off into space as he thought about it, but I wasn't sure he even heard me till he mumbled a reply.

"Yeah,… I think?" He thought, then stumbled back into my view.

"Sam, we don't have time for this." I hollered, hoping he'd hear me and my logic. Sure, Kiers' being there explained the shoe, but whatever had gotten her had done a number on my brother. There was no way of telling if "it" was still there, or even if she was alive. I knew we had to escape while we could, but he wouldn't listen. He had to find her, and when he did he limped towards her.

"Sammy, come on. Listen." I pleaded. "It's too late for her. Just. Come on."

"I'm not leaving her here, Dean. You don't understand!"

"She's infected. Look, we don't have a choice. Check her eyes. It's too late." I said while wondering what possessed me to say it.

He didn't have to hear me to know something was off about her. I saw him freeze, midstep, as he approached her unconscious body. Sure enough, her eyes were wide open. And they were not right.

He shook his head and picked her up anyway. Pulling her into his arms and tucking her head beneath his.

"You're serious? Sam, there's something wrong with her, and we don't even know what it is. What if it's contagious?"

"I don't care. I can't leave her here, Dean. I won't."

"Fine."

He passed her to me, through the opening, and I tried to seem willing to take her. I couldn't help but stare at the blood on his shirt. "You look like shit, man." I laughed.

He laughed too.


	36. Chapter 36

**Shaz, Shaz**. You know I cannot confirm or deny that. Hopefully this chapter will help you decide for yourself. If not, you'll definitely have an answer soon! Guaranteed!

**Pandy, **first of all, can I call you Pandy? Let me know. Well, welcome to the only obsession I have greater than Supernatural. Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

All the pacing he did when we got back to the apartment must have worn him out. He eventually slumped down in the bedroom chair to continue his worrying.

"You okay?" I asked, and he just grumbled that he was.

"You sure? You don't look okay."

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"Good." I said, ignoring the irritation in his voice, "I'm glad. I just don't get it."

"Neither do I." He said with a brief glance to Kiers. It was the first time he'd looked at her since he'd set her down on the mattress. She was still a vegetable.

He looked away before his heart broke. I ignored that too.

"I mean, with all that blood?" I turned my attention to the torn clothes he'd stuffed in the waste basket, "I just would have assumed you had a scratch or two to show for it."

"Yeah, me too, but I don't." He continued staring at the wall. Then he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and looked up to me for an answer. "So what do you think it is? You said some sort of demonic infection?"

I blinked.

Had I said that?

"I don't know." I shook my head, "That, or maybe some sort of psycho-possession? A trance? Whatever it is, it's definitely not in here." I said, pretending to paw through the pages of Dad's journal.

This was like nothing we'd ever seen before, and I just knew dad hadn't seen it before either.

"What's even the point?" I muttered. "I mean, in all seriousness, what's the advantage of turning **her**, of all people into '**that**' of all things? It doesn't make sense. Unless whatever did its 'master plan' is to turn the world into vegetables. Then, I'd say, it's off to a perfect start."

"Would you stop with the vegetable thing?" He asked harshly with soft eyes.

"Why?" I laughed as I thought of another way to dehumanize her. "Don't tell me you've grown attached to it, Sam! She's a two-timing bitch, remember?"

I sure remembered. The ring on her finger. The hate in her voice. That stonewall she'd stuck between me and her sister. No. No way. I mean, I knew he had a crush, but we'd talked about it. It was the last conversation I remembered having with him—telling him he could do better. Better like Jess.

"You know what?" He uttered in disbelief, then stood to challenge me. "You're wrong about her," He finished angrily, but I saw the break in his face and I just smiled. I'll admit, a small part of me was entertained.

"And did you ever, once, stop to think," He added—eyes begging me to understand— "that maybe she was a bitch because you are such an ass?"

"Okay, fine. So she's not a bitch." I said, pretending to consider it. "She's a wonderful, engaged, person I just misunderstood. Happy? But she's still infected. Can we PLEASE tie her up?"

"No." He huffed offensively. Shaking his head like I was dumb, "She's not a threat, and she's not engaged."

"YET!" I yelled, ignoring the irrelevance of her martial status. The ring was 'conveniently' missing from her finger, so I couldn't prove him wrong there, but I could get him to come to his senses by focusing on the key issue at hand—the fact her eyes were glowy-pink. Not a pretty pink, and not anything too funky—just pink. Weird pink. A shade somewhere between love and death.

"What if she wakes up, Sam? I doubt she'll be happy as sunshine then. She ain't right. We have to do something, and if we can't kill it, we should at least try an exorcism, binding spell. Something!"

"Fine. A binding spell. But that's it." He agreed with reluctance.

"Fine." I repeated, "Stuff's in the car."

I wasn't leaving him alone with her. Not while her hands were stained with his blood. No way, she wasn't fooling me. I knew she was evil, even before this.

He scoffed, and shook his head, but when he realized I wasn't moving, he went to get it anyway. The second Sammy left, I knew what I had to do. Got the gun I'd hidden in the nightstand, placed it against her forehead, and closed my eyes. It almost felt wrong, but I had to protect Sam. I had to do it. I didn't have a choice.

I pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. No bang, no boom. Nothing.

I opened my eyes confused and looked at my gun. Looked down at Kiersa. She was smiling. The pink gaze in her eyes faded; I think I saw the devil himself.

I felt a chill wash over me, and my arm rose up twisting painfully backwards. Dropped my gun, hoping it would stop. I didn't know how, but she had control over me and with the smallest look, she sent me flying back. Crashing to the wall.

She sat up, stiffly, and turned to me. Then she stood, and with her mind alone, clamped down on my neck. I couldn't breathe, and as I hung there, choking, Sam walked in. I tried to warn him, but he already knew. He was reading some incantation.

Kiers, at first, didn't seem to notice. Or care. Her raging eyes were locked on me, but she soon turned to him angrily. His book slammed shut; her eyes returned to me.

Next thing I knew, I heard a window smash. Sam was still okay, but the book was gone. She must have tossed it, but in doing so, she'd also released my throat. Guess she couldn't multitask.

"Get my gun," I gagged as best as I could, "Shoot the bitch"

Sam ran for the gun, but as shots fired, she was gone. Or, at least, we thought she was.

"You okay?" He asked, offering me a hand. I took it, and tried laughing off my pain.

"Yeah." I panted hard, and shook my head like I'd been confused.

"What the hell happened?" He asked, sincerely confused. He looked down at the gun in his hand, and I knew what he was thinking. He was thinking it was my fault. That she'd attacked me in self defense.

"I don't know, Sam. But the woman is clearly insane." I lied, "We got to stop her, before she hurts someone."

He couldn't argue with that, or me, and so he gave in. "Where would she go?"

I could think of only one place. And while my thoughts were filled with vengeance, I masked my answer with concern and fear.

"Home." I said, and we both knew what needed to be done.


	37. Chapter 37

All rightie, here is the deal. My word pad is again running on empty, and I only have about one decent chapter left. (The rest are all shady ramblings in my book, and they need LOTS of work.) So do you want that last 'good' chapter today, tomorrow, or later this week? I will leave it entirely up to you guys.

The good news is that I think I finally got my point across to certain people who kept interrupting me (and my creative juices) with randomness. I seem to have today to work with those shady pieces, and might be able to clean up an additional chapter for next weekend. The sort of bad news is that I do have a busy week ahead, and might also be going away next weekend, which translates to: I might not have time to work on anything.

But it's your choice if you want it now, or if you want to space it out a little. All I'll say is that it's another big zagger (and if you don't know what that means, think of the term zigzag.)

Panda! You know that was my nickname growing up--part of it, anyway, since it rhymes with my first name. But, yes, I will definitely be calling you spaghetti from time to time.. Or maybe I'll just call you Skibetti. I like that one too :) Enjoy this chapter, and consider it thanks for harassing me back into writing :p

* * *

Once again, we found ourselves staking out the girls' house. A lot had changed though.

I wondered where Mariah was and how the whole 'killing her sister' thing would affect our relationship, but something about that whole idea didn't seem right, so I tried not to think about it. It was pretty hard, though. I hadn't seen her since.. I didn't remember, but I missed her.

Still, I had to focus. We had to find Evil Kiersa before she hurt somebody, and since we didn't really know where the less-evil (AKA "normal") Kiersa would go to hide, we had to cover all the bases. That's why we stopped back at her place. If she wasn't there, we could at least break in again and find some clues as to where she might go.

In the event that plan failed, I had a few more hunches: her work, for one, and then that club she'd taken me to— I even had some weird thought about her terrorizing a carnival, but that could have just been a movie I'd watched.

When we were sure that nobody was home, Sam and I decided to make our move. Unfortunately, we never made it past the front gate. The minute we stepped outside of the car, Mariah came charging out the front door. Like she'd been hiding inside, waiting to be sure it was us.

"You son of a bitch" She murmured under her breath, and for a near minute I thought she might have been possessed too. "You!" Her head shook, and the rest of her words were lost in fury.

I smiled to Sam who was clearly unimpressed, and then looked back to Mariah, who promptly punched me in the face. She quickly tried taking advantage of my stunned state, but luckily Sam was there to pull her off me. He stepped in between us and used his body as a barrier—but not before she had thrown something in my face. Once she'd been physically restrained, her verbal assault continued. She kept screaming and cursing, while trying her best to break free. I looked around to make sure no one was near by, and sure enough, in the middle of no where, no one was.

"Mariah, look." Sam tried his best to calm her, but for some reason she was oblivious to him. She just stared me down in disgust. "You have to calm down, okay? We just want to talk."

I leaned over (out of kicking range) and picked up the necklace that had hit me in the face. "Rosaries?" I asked holding the cross up to Sam who stopped talking to Mariah long enough to look confused.

"It's Sunday, but I think you're a little late for mass." I chuckled. Sadly, no one else was in the mood for jokes.

Sam turned his attention back to Mariah, who finally settled down long enough to speak sensibly. "Where is she?" She asked looking to Sam with hope, "Please tell me that she's okay."

"Who, Kiersa?" His brows crinkled with curiosity, "We're looking for her now; do you have any idea where she might be?" He asked warmly, but that question, for some reason, set her off again. It was like she blamed us, or me.

"How dare you," she said with offense, and turned to me, "What did you do to her?" She asked with a deep breath.

Sam also looked back at me, and I shrugged. I didn't know what to say—I hadn't done anything. She was just crazy.

"Mariah, listen to me, we're here to help you. And your sister, okay?" Sam continued to beg, but she wouldn't hear him. At least not until he was willing to prove it to her. "I'm going to let you go…"

"What!" I snapped, but Sam snapped right back and told me to shut up.

"Look at me, Mariah," My brother said, finally winning over her attention, "I just want to talk to you." And with that, he slowly, gently, let go of her arm.

"I swear to God," She shook her head until something in her eyes broke; then the anger returned in her voice, and she made another effort to get to me. "if you hurt her!!"

Sam held her back, again, and again she fought harder, until he finally yelled at me. At me!! "Dean, go wait in the car."

This confused the two of us. Both Mariah and me.

"No! Uh-uh. No way!" I laughed, and when the desperate cue in his eyes failed to persuade me, he sighed, pushed Mariah back, and then released her one last time. Holding only his arm up; a silent plea for her to stop.

"I'm not leaving you alone with that psychopath." I whispered an honest concern, but Sam only put that traitorous hand of his on my back and started walking me towards the car.

"Dean, look. The girl obviously knows something."

"Yeah! Ya-think!" I said through gritted teeth, "She threw a cross in my face, Sam! I think she knows a little more than something!"

"So what, you think that maybe she's behind all this?" He asked skeptically, but who really knows. Right? Right??

"I don't know what I think. I just know that this is a bad idea!" I said. It was the truth—I had a bad feeling in my gut. Like something bad was going to happen. Like something evil was coming. I couldn't ignore it.

"Why would a demon risk carrying out a cross?" Sam laughed, trying to appeal to my logic. But that wouldn't work. I was too smart for it.

"To trick us? I don't know. Maybe she's not a demon. Maybe she IS a witch, or something else."

"That's the point! Dean, we don't even know what we're up against here. It could be anything, especially a shapeshifter the way she's dead-set on attacking you. Just let me talk to her and sort things out. Please."

"Fine." I grumbled as reluctantly as I could, then laughed in realizing Mariah was already on her way back to the house. "You get five minutes. Hopefully before she calls the cops."

As I motioned my eyes towards this development, Sam noticed and began chasing after her. "No! Nonono! Wait. Please, Mariah. Please." He begged, "Look at me. Your sister saved my life. Now I think she's in trouble, and I need your help. Please."

Why not put a freaking cherry on top, Sam. Really.


	38. Chapter 38

I heard no Nays, and since all in favor said "Aye" the "Ayes" have it... Here is the next chapter--hope everyone enjoys!!

**Shaz - **You know, there have been a LOT of complaints, but I enjoyed the last episode. HOWEVER.. Truth be told, I only half watched it! I had just gotten back from the doctors (and I literally mean "doctors" in the plural sense; the first guy couldn't diagnose me and sent me to a specialist) Needless to say, after a stressful, and expensive day with a crazy case of tonsillitis, I just zoned out. I did think it was clever that the beings were just human, and I didn't really notice Sam's absence--looks like I have to get out the fine-tooth comb and rewatch it :)

I am also sorry that I seem to pick the one random day you aren't online... should I just automatically postpone my postings to a day after I decide to post them? Just kidding! This chappy should sort out your confusion--but honestly, I have been very amused with the reader responses. From the very beginning everyone has trusted Dean unquestionably. There's my two cents :)

* * *

There I was. Me. Stuck in the car. Like a dog.

I crossed my arms and sat back, trying my hardest not to sulk. My right heel tapping angrily as I watched Sam and Mariah talk through the kitchen window. This was stupid.

The only good thing about it was that I had the advantage over Keirsa—assuming, that is, she didn't just dream-of-Genie her way into the place. Still, I had an arsenal in the trunk and a pretty good view of Sam so I wasn't too worried. I was just hot. Really, really hot.

It was weird, because it wasn't even that nice out—not for a mid-March day, but I knew that was just New England weather at its finest. I laughed and started up the car. Cranked the AC, but as I did I noticed something etched on the palm of my hand. Didn't have to think twice to know it was remnants of that cross I'd touched, but I examined it anyway. I didn't want to believe it.

"Aw crap." I whispered to myself as I brought that burn to my face for closer inspection. I knew what it meant, obviously. Sort of. It meant that I was possessed, or something, but that didn't make sense—I felt fine. I was me, wasn't I?

I ran my other thumb over that marking, to see if it would wipe away, then dropped both hands into my lap and shook my head. Trying to make sense of it. "That can't be good."

"Neither is the mess you're in. Again." A voice whispered from the backseat. I turned around and couldn't believe my eyes. It was Meg.

"Why is it that every time I let you off your leash you manage to screw up?" She asked with a certain level of disgust in her eyes. "She's in there right now, telling him everything."

"Leash? Who? What?" I stammered, and before I could figure out what she was talking about, something else had occurred to me. Meg was dead. I must have been hallucinating.

"You're dead!" I accused, unsurely. She rolled her eyes at me and in a single, swift move, managed to pin me in my seat by wrapping her left arm around my neck. I didn't have a chance to react, and before I knew it, I felt something jab into my waist. As I struggled to see the dark blade she had, and struggled to free myself, a very peculiar sensation took over me. A snap.

It was a sharp and instantaneous snap. Or maybe a crack. It was like a damn breaking open from too much pressure. Rushing water bursting free—except it wasn't water running through my veins, it was something else. Something evil. It was her.

She was silent for a minute. She just sat there, waiting for it to fill me and when it did, and when I remembered—when I was hers again—she spoke. "He's going to find out about you," Her eyes turned to the house, "She's going to tell him everything."

"It doesn't matter," I smiled, savoring the power I felt pumping in my blood, "He won't believe her."

"You know that for a fact? Really? What's he going to think when she tells him how your eyes changed—or how you just disappeared 200 feet in the air. You don't think he might have even the faintest suspicion? I'm impressed."

I knew she was right—as always. If Sam ever heard that, he'd be suspicious. Maybe he wouldn't douse me with holy water, or throw a cross in my face, but he'd still have a nagging concern in the back of his mind. He would always wonder.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked. She just answered like it was obvious.

"I want you to clean up your mess."

"Could you be more specific?" I asked with a grin, but the details she had quickly robbed me of that smile.

"Kill her before she tells him anything." Again, stated so obviously she seemed offended by my asking.

"Yeah!" I laughed, "Because that won't raise any flags,"

I thought for sure she was joking, but when I realized just how serious she'd been, the flags went up in my own head. I mean, seriously? Kill Mariah? That wasn't right… Wouldn't that just scream 'Sam I'm fricking Evil!' ?

"Wait," I laughed again, trying to prepare my argument, "I can't! …I can't just walk in there and kill her. Are you crazy?" I shook my head, and as quickly as I could, passed the buck. "You kill her!"

"No." She responded, as if I'd told her to have a tea party.

"Yeah!" I agreed with myself, and everything fell into place. Suddenly, I had my own plan, and it was perfect. "Yeah, you go in there! And you kill her! And then, ..then you attack Sam!"

I saw the interest in her eyes, and I knew she thought I was brilliant. "I'll save him, and he'll know I'm not evil. He'll trust me again, undoubtedly. Problem solved." I smiled, but before I could ask her approval she was gone.

About a minute later, I saw Mariah's body flying out the kitchen window. I was concerned, at first, but then I remembered it was the plan. My plan. I remembered Sam and how I had to trick him. How I had to save him.

I grabbed my gun from the glove compartment and ran to the house as quickly as I could—slowing down only to see Mariah's body as I passed it. It didn't feel right. She was still alive, and I knew it somehow. I felt her heart beating strong inside me, even if her mind was off. Still, I knew what needed to be done, and I didn't have a choice.


	39. Chapter 39

All rightie folks--sorry again for the delay!! I am actually really, really psyched with this chapter though. Changed a few things around, but I promise it's a lot better than it was a few weeks ago--so enjoy!!!

**Skibettios (AKA Panda)** - No worries! I just always wonder when I don't hear back from people (talk about a nerd!) I worry if I've lost them or offended them in some way. Plus the reviews are the only way I can disassociate from the story and see it from an outside POV--if people are confused or unsure about things, I know what I can explain or work on with future chapters. But your questions? Eh... Sorry.. those are exactly the things you should be wondering :p

**Stake me now **- Do I have nickname for you? I can't remember, but let me know what I can call you for short! Anyway, I must say that your review almost brought me to tears! I was just moved. I literally grabbed my heart and read yours aloud to the entire room--who literally looked at me like I was crazy. But I have worked really hard on dialogue, and circumstance, and channeling the characters, so the fact you noticed was just the greatest pat on the back for me. Thank you :)**  
**

**Shaz **- I am feeling much better, thank you for asking :) And I love that you are always fishing for answers, but I can't tell you whether or not you're supposed to "trust" Dean. That is entirely up to you. I will agree about S4, though, I'm still very disappointed! The last few episodes have been a lot better, but it's still no where near the show I fell in love with. And I have no idea what they plan to do with it, either! I'm not even really sure I want to know at times...

* * *

Sam was in trouble.

I had to save him.

That was it. That was the plan.

It was simple, really, but for some reason it seemed like there was more to it than that. It was weird. I mean, I knew for a fact that Darkness wasn't actually going to kill him—she was going to let me save him. I could have easily taken my time with this rescue, but I didn't. I ran. Fast. Like his life actually depended on it.

My gut instincts told me that I didn't have time to waste. That I didn't have time to walk all the way down the front path to the door (or all the way through the living room and into the kitchen, for that matter) so I ran around to the back door and kicked it in. They were right there. I didn't even have to aim my gun—I just fired. Shot three shots into the back of my master. All for show.

She'd been holding my brother, halfway up the wall, by his throat. No surprise there, of course. I expected that. What I didn't expect, though, was seeing the blade in her other hand. She stared down at it, silently taunting Sam as she waited for his planned rescue.

When I shot her, she vanished, and everything she'd been holding fell to the floor. Again, I was expecting my brother to hit the ground, but the dagger? I wasn't sure if she'd meant to leave it behind, or if I'd actually wounded her with the rounds of salt. But either way, I knew I couldn't worry about it. Not yet.

I tucked my gun into the back of my pants and ran to Sam, as I normally would to help him up. "You okay, Sammy?" I asked nervously as I helped him stand on his own two feet. He just held his throat and nodded with a sore smile.

"Yeah. Perfect timing, as usual."

"I guess so," I said with my Cheshire grin, as if he'd been lucky. But a second or two after, my smile faded. Sam was safe, but I wasn't. I was lost.

All the instincts I'd had urging me to protect him were gone, and I didn't know what to do, or what to say—and he was staring at me. Concerned. I had to say something… Something Dean would say. Something funny, but serious at the same time. Anything.

"So, uh, what was that thing? Demon Meg, or ghost Meg? Or, like, something else Meg with an assault weapon?" I laughed. That was a pretty good response to the situation. Seemingly appropriate. On task, yet perfectly humorous—only he didn't smirk, chuckle, or even so much as snort. He just shook his head confused.

"Meg? I don't know— I didn't see its face. Did you?"

"Me?" I was too surprised to answer. I didn't know Darkness had disguised her face—or even that she could. I should have just shut my mouth, but I couldn't. "No," I shook my own head and tried to make the thought sound absurd to me. "No! I just… A guess?" I shrugged, but that didn't help much either. Why would I guess it was Meg unless I'd actually seen her? "I guess." I tried correcting myself, "I guess I.. saw her, I mean, I thought I saw her, at least. It looked like Meg, Okay?!"

"Okay," was all he answered. Just a small, confrontation-avoiding, end-of-story 'okay.'

I felt my heart start to race, the way it did sometimes when I was nervous. I knew he thought I was lying, so as quickly and as easily as I could, I looked away from him. I had to change the subject to something else. The knife. I had to find the knife, and I did. It was right by my feet.

As I bent over to pick it up, my pulse was beating hard. My face was hot with nerves. I heard my brother's fearful voice call out my name, sounding almost as if he'd discovered something horrible. I panicked, but looked up as calmly as I could to see a sense of alarm in his eyes. It lasted only a second. He ran over to the broken window—the one Mariah had flown out of.

I had to look away again.

A part of me felt better knowing I was off the hook. That he hadn't suspected me of anything, but another part of me felt… unusual. He called me again—slowly, and more serious this time. Like he had bad news. The uncertainty I heard struck me in a way I didn't anticipate. I think I felt sorry. Remorse. I looked to Sam, just as he looked back to me, but that solemn look in his eyes changed. They lit right up again, this time with fear. As if something was very wrong. Something behind me.

"Dean!" He managed to spit out my name a third time. He hollered it while raising his hand to warn me I was in danger. I thought, for sure, it was Darkness—I felt her power raging behind me and figured she must have wanted to end things on a more dramatic note—or maybe just wanted her dagger back. I played along.

With a fearful gulp, I whipped my arm behind me, defensively aiming the knife, while turning my body, to see Kiersa. Smiling.

I was too surprised to react, but I didn't have to. The second she saw the blade in my hand, she grabbed my wrist. Not with her hands, though—she was still standing too far away to actually touch me. She grabbed me with her powers. Psychic. Telekinetic. Whatever. I felt her seize my arm, then my whole body, toes to tongue, cutting my immediate reaction "you b—" short of an 'itch.'

I couldn't move. I couldn't talk. I could just stand there, defenseless, as she tried to make sense of my presence. I confused her. She didn't know why I was there, in her house, or why her window was broken. Where her sister was, or why she, herself, had such icy water running through her veins. How she could control me with mere will, or read the thoughts in my head. She didn't know any of these things, or anything, really, except for their connection to me. She blamed me, and she knew that. I knew it too, because I saw it in her eyes. Resentment. Anger. Fury.

She kept prying my brain for answers, and I kept praying Sam would shoot her. Honestly, though? I wanted to rip off both their heads. Kiers' for violating me, and Sam's for letting her. Although, he couldn't have known what was going on. He was just hoping his little girlfriend wasn't dangerous. That she'd come to her senses and wouldn't hurt me, so that he wouldn't have to hurt her. His reluctance stunk up the room like dirty laundry, and if I could have wished him dead I would have.

When Kiers finally had her answers she stopped digging, and a confused look spread across her face. I saw her processing it all, trying to make sense out of every last detail. Her eyes dropped away from mine, only for a second, until a faint shock appeared in her expression. Then she looked back at me with disgust.

"No." Her head shook, slowly, with repulsion, and I think for the very first time she felt the world actually spinning around her. It was evident my plan had struck her hard in her core. Her heart, her gut, moral conscience, and bones. The disgust I imagined a mother might feel in discovering a murderer's plans of killing a child. She was sickened beyond words, and I wanted to laugh. I wanted to tell her she couldn't fight destiny. That it was inevitable, and she couldn't stop it. She couldn't stop us.

"No," the girl repeated again, determining herself to try. And with an uneasy look in her eyes, she turned my hand so that the knife faced me instead—right at my throat. The blade inched towards me, but oddly enough I wasn't afraid. It felt right, the end, like it needed to be done. I didn't fight it, but Sam did.

I heard his desperate protest as he lunged for her, then heard his anguished strains as he fell just short of his goal. Kiers' arm had shot out to stop him, and he hung there, frozen in mid air, inches before her.

"Don't do this," He begged with a look so wild and broken she had to turn away from him. She looked back at me, to remind herself of what I was and what I aimed to do. Took a deep, and tried to refocus her energy, but couldn't. She didn't have the strength.

She was fading fast. I saw her wrist waver as she struggled to control the two of us. Strategy played out in her eyes. She had to let one of us go, but couldn't quite maneuver it without releasing the other. I knew I would have only seconds to get to her. To kill her. But once I was free of her grip I hesitated.

She sent Sam flying backwards across the kitchen, and, without sparing a second, she rushed to me. Grabbed my wrist. Pushed me to the wall. Shoved that dagger to my throat, but stopped, just short of my skin.

"Do it," I dared, grabbing her wrist and pulling it closer to my neck. "Don't let me hurt him."

Her heart may have hiccupped a bit, because she froze, right then and there. She couldn't make sense of me, and she certainly couldn't kill me. She was still too human. Too weak.

"Please." I begged, one more time, as I felt my last ounce of humanity die away. I was telling her it was okay, and she still couldn't do it. Stupid fool. I hated her. I should have snapped her tiny wrist, I should have torn off her arm, and pulled off her head, but I tried not to think about it. I closed my eyes, and tried to make the thoughts go away, but all that went away was her pulse. It stopped beating in my hand.

I opened my eyes, curious as her iron grip weakened. Her eyes went dead. Her body limp. I grabbed her throat just as she fell to the ground—keeping her up so I could study her, and try to figure out what had happened. Then I noticed Sam.

His right hand was high above his head holding a frying pan, which perfectly reflected the darkness he saw gleaming in my eyes. I knew in that instant he hadn't hit her. No, he hadn't gotten the chance. He'd taken one look at me and stopped dead in his tracks—so shocked and confused he could barely form a thought in his skull.

I tossed the girl at him and left.


	40. Chapter 40

Surprise Post!! At 2AM! I feel insane! But very happy..

First off, for those of you who haven't heard, here is the tragic tale of why I stopped posting. I was in a car accident in March and have been recovering ever since. On top of that, my mother managed to infect my PC with a mega-virus that even I couldn't beat--and I'm pretty good with fixing computers :( But, without any further delay, here is your next post!!!!

* * *

I tried not to panic, but it was hard.

Something new was surging inside me; something different, and it was burning so strong I could not ignore it. It was a deep, hot, whirlwind of a flame, and it had my head spinning. But it felt good, and powerful, and as much as I wanted to embrace it, I couldn't. Truth was, it scared me. It meant that I had killed the girl.

I didn't have another explanation for it. She'd dropped like a fly. One minute kicking my ass—the next kicking the bucket. And now this? This "fire" roaring inside me? It was my conquest. I had killed the witch. I may have even stolen her powers—I wasn't sure, but there was one thing I knew for certain— Darkness was going to be furious.

I lowered my head as I entered her chambers. Humbling myself as best I could. She looked me over coldly before snapping, "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be with Sam."

Even with all the anger in her voice, I could somehow tell she was more surprised than anything else. I had been given clear orders to convince my brother nothing about me had changed—and I failed. I had exposed myself, even if I hadn't meant to. I had never intended on killing Kiersa, either, but it happened. Don't know how, but it did, and I just hoped Darkness would understand that.

I closed my eyes and apologized. "I'm sorry." I said with a gulp and bow, "I didn't mean to."

"Mean to?" Her growl echoed deep in the pit of my stomach. I felt my blood churn, thick, and my bones freeze at the sound of her voice. "Mean to what? What did you do?"

Her voice scowled, and her angry eyes burned through my skin. I swallowed hard, wishing, for the life of me, she'd just read my mind and know. That she'd just look at me and see the accident, but she didn't. She wanted to hear it straight from me.

"I killed her." I confessed quickly, and opened my eyes to beg her forgiveness. "I know it wasn't the plan, but she came out of no where, and it just happened. I don't.."

My words rambled on, franticly, until a slight chuckle escaped her lips. "Hm" She laughed, as if it were funny. I blinked twice and waited for her words to elaborate.

"_You _killed her? Really?"

I smelled sarcasm, rich like smoke and felt a twitter flitter in my gut. She was mocking me, and it tickled me angry. I suddenly felt foolish for lowering myself to her. My cheeks grew hot, and my hands tingled with the urge to strangle her, but I resisted. Even as she continued to degrade me.

"That witch is a god compared to you. You couldn't kill her if you tried." She said closing her eyes. Looking for something. As she searched, her hand rose to her chest and rested there, almost as if she was holding something beneath her shirt. I could tell this gesture helped her focus, the way a Christian holds a cross to pray—only this was something more.

Whatever it was, I thought about how badly I wanted to choke her with it—or her own hand, for that matter. With my new power, I felt unstoppable. I could surely kill her, if I tried, but I didn't dare to. Not yet. It would be too simple now. I had to wait. She'd need me, sooner or later, and then I would betray her. Then she would see who the pawn truly was.

She smiled, and I quickly turned away from that thought. I couldn't risk her discovering my mutinous plan. What's more, I suddenly knew what she'd been looking for—and that she'd found it too.

Kiersa. She had been sensing for Kiersa—trying to see if the girl was still alive, or if any evidence existed to support my claim. I knew by her arrogant smile she could feel the girl's heart beating strong.

I half-shook my head, trying to prepare an argument, but I couldn't make sense out of anything. I was honestly confused. The strength I felt inside me, and the way that supposed "god" fell the second I touched her? No. There was no way she was any more powerful than I was. She was weak. Pathetic. I should have killed her.

"Again, with the wishful thinking," Darkness interrupted me with a whisper. Then she breathed a deep breath and opened her eyes.

"But I.." I tried explaining, but my attempts were cut off before they'd even begun.

"Drained her at most," She scoffed, "which isn't saying a lot for you, considering how unbalanced she is. I told you turning a witch was like playing with fire. You never know which way they'll turn."

"Unbalanced?" I thought, trying to make sense of her last statement. "So she's good?"

That didn't make sense. If she was good, and we were evil, why couldn't I just kill her? Why wait around and let her spoil our plans?

"Oh, be serious." She snarled, then laughed, "_Good?_ Look in your gut and tell me what 'good' you see. You share the same evil, and you know there is nothing good about it."

"Then why attack me? Why protect Sam?"

"I already told you, she's a god, and gods don't break easily. Creatures like you bend to my will. But her? She is strong. Like your brother. That's why it was so hard to catch her, and that's why she can resist me— but sooner or later she will fall. Do you understand now?"

"Yes," I lied, daring not to waste more of her time with questions. She seemed to have already forgotten I had blown my cover with Sam, and she didn't seem the least bit angry with me either. I didn't want to push my luck and change that. No, I had to stay in her good graces in order for my own plan to work.

Still, I had to wonder, because not much of what she'd told me made sense. I'm not even sure she'd answered any of my questions. Maybe it was because she couldn't. She couldn't tell me why Kiersa was protecting Sam, or why she'd attacked me. She knew nothing—nothing about them, and nothing about me. The stupid fool. If she only knew what I was planning.

"Good," Darkness said, as I laughed to myself, "Now bring her to me."

She turned and reached for her black knife, just as before, only this time she had no smile on her face. Her expression was a still as the night. "I have some tweaking to do."


	41. Chapter 41

_Getting there slowly... yeah..._

_Well, Shaz it's you and I both (and I'm only speaking grammatically incorrect because Jason Mraz just so happens to be playing in the background, so dance with me. He he.) I am so happy tonight, even though I'm sick with a cold and in pain from the obvious. Hmm, must be the drugs. Oh well, here is a post just for you!! Hopefully the chemicals haven't altered my brain to the point where this next post is terrible. I don't think so, but you'll be the judge of that! Enjoy!_

* * *

I saw Kiersa.

Lying on the bed.

Her bed. So sound. So completely still, as if she was already dead.

I felt my insides smile, knowing how easy it would be to end her life. Like crushing a flower, or smashing a vase. Smothering a coma patient. Killing her would be no challenge. No fun. But I could do it. Right then and there, I could do it, and no one would ever know it was me. Except for Darkness. She would know. She knew everything—and sure, she might be angry at first but she'd get over it, right? She would have to if she wanted her "plan" to work.

She'd deal, and eventually see that it was for the best. She'd thank me, even, and apologize for being so foolish. For not seeing it sooner. Kiersa had already screwed things up anyway; she'd gone against us, blown my cover, and put a wall between Sam and me. If I was to let her live, she would surely ruin everything else. But if I stole her last breath? With Sam grieving and confused? Lost and alone. So vulnerable? No, this wasn't just the perfect plan, it was the only option. Darkness would forever be in my debt.

I didn't know what had come over me, but I knew it had something to do with "draining" Kiers. It had made me feel stronger, and brave. Brave enough to go against my master's plan. Bold enough to finally kill the girl whose blood I'd long thirsted for. I had to do it, and now. Fast. While she was asleep. Weak, and easy. Now. Now while Sam's guard was down. It had to be now.

I stepped forward from the shadows of her closet. Not a thought entered my mind—not a plan or shade of doubt. I just walked to her bedside—on autopilot. Like a cart, stuck on a roller-coaster track, drawn by a chain pulled by some unknown force, I had to kill her. She had to be mine. My first.

She still looked so pretty, even with all the energy I had taken from her. She looked so vibrant and alive. I laughed to myself, because I knew I'd soon be changing that. I reached for her throat, anticipating the fear I'd see in her eyes when they'd shoot open. Longing for the feel of her resting pulse to change in my bare hand. I had just touched her skin when I heard the door creak open behind me.

I closed my eyes and retreated, instantly. Back to the shadows.

A close call, no doubt. Had I not my powers, Sam would have caught me. Kiersa, too. She would have seen me had she just woken up a second earlier. But I'd been lucky. She'd not opened her eyes until Sam had opened the door; Now he stood there, like a fool, staring at the girl as she stared uneasily back at him.

"You're still here." She noted quietly, almost confused by his sudden appearance in her room. I bet she was also curious with the fact she'd woken up in her own bed, after being knocked out in the kitchen, but that didn't seem to bother her as much.

"What did you do to Dean?" He asked angrily, but I knew anger wasn't in his head. He was more torn than angry. He wanted to save us both, but had to put me first, even if it meant hurting her. I was his brother; she was nothing. Nothing but a girl. Another face in the crowd.

It was that fucked up life of his—of ours. The one he begged me not to mix with hers. But, boy, was I ever glad I did. The turmoil in his mind, it was just oh-so sweet. He was responsible for it all—at least from where he was standing. He blamed himself. He had brought this upon her. And he'd brought it upon me too, because he seemed to really think 'she' had infected 'me.' That made me laugh—as it did Kiers. We both knew the truth about who had turned who.

"What did 'I' do?" She looked at him in disbelief. I saw the nerve it struck with her, clear as day. She was just about ready to rat me out. Blame me. Tell him the truth, but she didn't. She didn't tell him anything. Just changed the subject, when she saw the pentagram above her head.

"Did you draw on my ceiling?"

"Where is he?" Sam ignored her, trying his best to keep his threatening face on. That made me laugh too. Pathetic sap. I didn't know how Darkness could think that boy was worth anything more than a headache. It made me angry to think he could somehow be more powerful than me. That the two of them were any greater than I was.

"I don't know." Kiers replied honestly, closed her eyes and laughed about the situation.

"You're lying." Sam spat, determined to believe himself. Kiers bit her lip angrily, and swung her feet over the side of the bed, to stand.

"I don't need this from you," She shook her head again, and took a moment to breathe as she tried to cool her temper. I think she was actually trying to protect him—or maybe she was just in denial about the everything—but I could see she was already regretting saying what she'd said. She was also trying pretty hard not to add to it.

"From me?" He asked suddenly defensive. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He crossed his arms as she sat there speechless. I was actually pretty surprised. There he was, grilling the girl who'd basically sold herself to protect him in the first place. The irony. It was delicious.

Well, the only response Kiers had for him was in getting up and walking away, and when she did that, so effortlessly, I have to say it surprised us both. The trap had done absolutely nothing to keep her put.

"How did you do that?" He stood back, gulping air. I studied the ceiling hoping to find some flaw, but his markings were perfect. There was no way a demon could escape it. It didn't make sense.

"Do what?" She laughed as if she'd lost her mind (or as if he'd lost his; she clearly thought my brother was insane.) "Would you please stop acting like a crazy person?"

Something in her desperation must have led him to believe she wasn't a threat, because he soon closed his eyes. Letting his guard down completely. He shook his head, and began to apologize, but by the time he looked back at her, he realized something was wrong. She was frozen, like a deer in the headlights, listening for something. I couldn't see the look on her face, as her back was facing me, but I just knew she knew I was there. I felt her fears radiating in me like a sonic wave—humming, loud, throughout my body.

"Get out." She whispered in the sternest voice she had; I imagined a warning-flare went off in her eyes too. Sam shook his head, stupidly confused.

"I need to find my brother,"

I just laughed.

"He's here." She continued to whisper, "And he's not your brother, Sam. Go."

He studied her for a second until she repeated herself, "Go!" She rushed towards him, with every intention of grabbing him by the arm and pushing him out of her room. I figured that was as good a cue as any, and so I let the closet door swing open, and I clapped my hands in applause.

"Bravo, bravo. Just when I thought my baby brother couldn't get any stupider."

"Dean." His turned those confused, and now shocked, puppy eyes to me as he tried to make sense of my introductory sentence. I just laughed, and rolled my eyes till they turned blood red. Then, with my most deranged smirk, I lifted my arm to grab him—to toss him as hard as I possibly could down those stairs—but my arm froze mid-rise. I turned to the bitch as she smiled back at me.

"Oh cute," I scoffed. She used the last bit of energy she had to push Sam to safety. His body was yanked backwards out of the bedroom, and the door slammed shut in his face.

Kiers flipped the lock on the doorknob, and even moved a small bookcase in front of it. I'm pretty sure it was more for show than Sam's protection, so I dared to compliment her.

"Very Carrie" I said smugly, "Dean likes."

I laughed at her, along with the fact that my brother was so stupid he now stood on the other side of the door—banging on the wood, as if pounding would open it. Kiers had done everything in her power to give him a head start, and had I been there to kill him, he surely would have blown her efforts. But the truth was, I had my orders, and they did not include Sam.

"Although," my eyes rolled happily back to normal. Back to her. "I suppose I should be thanking you. Siblings are like pests, aren't they? Always getting in the way?"

As the girl tried to figure out why I'd be thanking her, and why Sam would be 'in the way,' it hit her. When the shock appeared on her face, I knew I had her. I pushed my arm up, out of her hold, and grabbed her wrist, and in that instant, she was mine. She couldn't fight me.

"You were right to worry about him—it's just not his turn yet."

I felt what power she had left flowing into my fist, and once again, her eyes closed. Her pulse stopped, and her body went limp. Only this time I knew why. I knew that I had drained her completely, and when it was over, I closed my own eyes, and returned to the lair where Darkness stood grinning.

"Nice work. Heavy on the drama, but not bad." She smirked, as Kiers' body fell to the ground. "There may be hope for you yet."

Darkness grabbed my arm as I went to walk away,"But if you ever cross me, or even think about disobeying my orders—you'll be dead before you'd ever realize how truly stupid you are."

Then, with a sharp turn of her head, she turned her bitter rage to the girl lying in front of me. She approached her, angrily, and with each step, Kiers' lifeless body was pushed backwards to the wall until it wouldn't move any further. Darkness then raised her hand, forcing the girl to an upright, standing, position. Shortly after, something flew over and jabbed deep into Kiers' gut; her eyes shot open as her head flew back, smashing into the wall (which didn't help her pain.) Her lungs seized air in a painful gasp, and then she groaned in agony.

Darkness stepped back, and I saw what held Kiers to the wall; it was the knife.

With the witch now tacked in place, Darkness turned to me with a smile, as her hand clung to the mysterious pendant around her neck. A swell of pride took over me, knowing I had pleased her. She patted my shoulder twice, thanking me, then touched my cheek with her cold fingertips. That was when I realized she wasn't really thanking me. A sharp shock stole my breath, and I felt all the power I had, and all the strength I had ever known sucked from my bones. It was peaceful, yet exhausting, and while I wanted it to stop, I couldn't resist. I had to let her take it.

"Trust me, pet, this is a favor." She smiled, "You don't have the strength, or intellectual capacity to deal with her power."

She let me loose, and as tired as I felt, I felt better. The surge I'd experienced from draining Kiers was gone. Darkness, however, seemed more powerful and driven; she turned back to Kiers with a grin.

"Do not fear me, yet, girl. I'm not going to kill you."


	42. Chapter 42

When the pain in Kiers' eyes subsided, and she realized Darkness had been talking to her, the girl finally managed to produce something other than an agonized groan.

"What did you do to me?" Her words were weak, and desperate. She could barely keep her eyes on us. She could barely keep her eyes open. She could barely breathe.

"Nothing, witch." Sneered my master, "You've done this to yourself. Or don't you remember our deal?"

Kiers scoffed, silently choking on blood as she tried to remember. Closing her eyes in pain when she did. "Then what did I do to me?"

"You've chosen me, of course, as your lord and savior." Darkness joked, as she moved closer to the girl. I laughed, too, but Kiers didn't seem as amused.

"You are mine, girl, and I am yours. We belong together, now and for eternity." Darkness ran her fingers through Kiers' dark hair. "But, still, you fight it. Why? Why do you fight it? Fighting only makes you weaker," Darkness whispered in the girl's ear. Kiers pulled away as far as she could.

"Weakness doesn't help me. I need you strong. I need your strength. Let go. Let me make you stronger. Drive you. Be mine."

Kiers turned her head away from my master's confusing pleas, and opened her eyes only to stare, uncomfortably, at the ground to her left. "Go to hell." She breathed deep, and uneasy.

Darkness just smirked and tightened the grip on the girl's hair. "Don't kid yourself into thinking you can win. It's a fools' struggle, girl. You will fall, sooner or later, and you will fall hard."

"Then let me fall," Kiers laughed, unafraid. She smiled defiantly with all her teeth, and that was when it hit me. She was dying. Any human with an impaled gut would be dying, so it didn't matter what my master said; the girl knew it was over for her, and she was bravely sticking to her morals.

Still, I didn't understand how Kiers could completely look the other way. Surely she remembered when it was Sam in this predicament. I did. He was on his death bed, sliced to the core. Darkness looked to me and said he wouldn't die because she wouldn't let him, and, sure enough, he walked away without a scratch.

Clearly Darkness had some power over the natural order of things—and here she was offering to save Kiers' life. Why would she rather die than live?

Why had I been so easily seduced?

I remembered the charm and the fear in my gut as her words circled, seductively, around me. I remembered the dizzy haze and the purr in her voice; the fire in her eyes. The curl of her cold fingers and grin. She was intoxicating and irresistible, but Kiersa fought it. Her head continued its slow shake, as she tried to tone out everything out.

"Don't believe me?" Darkness smiled, potentially oblivious to what I now knew, "Fine. Fight it. Fight it until it breaks you. But remember, when you have nothing left—when you've watched yourself kill all the ones you love— you're going to remember it all. Unless I take it from you. I can take that burden from you, if you let me in now. What do you say?"

"Mariah," She whispered weakly as her eyes closed.

"She's dead. Dean killed her, or didn't you know?" My master sounded agitated; unable to understand this dying wish.

"Everything you had is gone, so why fight? Give in. Be mine."

Kiers continued to smile an eerily peaceful smile, and after a minute Darkness sighed and turned to me. Disgusted. "Finish this," she said, before wandering off mumbling something about how she'd told me turning a witch was playing with fire.

"Wait!" I started to chase after her, but she stopped and turned to me with curiosity in her eyes. There was something else, though, something I couldn't quite explain. Something was different about her—colder, harsher, angrier.

I had been afraid of her in the very beginning, but that fear had faded when I realized how much she needed me, and especially after I had drained Kiersa. But now? Now there was something in her eyes that rekindled my fear. Made my dead heart freeze when I looked at her. She was darker somehow. I think draining Kiers had made me darker, but when Darkness took that power from me? Had it made her stronger?

"Her will is stronger than I anticipated. Breaking her down will take too long. I don't have the patience or time for that." She said, turning sickened eyes to the witch. "Use my knife. Single cuts only, starting with the hip. Don't hold back."

"You want me to kill her?" I asked unsure; I think I sounded alarmed. The hip, though, that is how she turned me. I remembered her slicing my hip. Why?

"No." She laughed angry with my misunderstanding. "I want you to turn her. But if you can't," she hesitated, "Then yes. Kill her. It's simple, really. Either she turns or she dies, but yes, you idiot. I give you my permission."

"Really?" I asked confused, but I soon appeased her with my agreement. "I mean, of course." I said, hesitantly.

"Go on," Darkness nudged me with her harsh eyes. "Get to it. We don't have time to waste."

I turned my eyes to Kiersa. This was my chance. My chance to make her scream. And cry for me, and bleed. I had been waiting forever for this chance. To kill her, but surprisingly her death was the last thing on my mind.

Granted, she was already as good as dead hanging there, but I wanted to know how it worked—that blade in her gut. How could such a simple weapon create a monster like me? And how could this petty girl fight it? What did she have that I didn't? Or hadn't, at the time. What made her stronger than I was? How could she be stronger than Dean Winchester?

I approached her and pulled the blade from her stomach. She fell, instantly, to the ground; still barely breathing. I just stared at that magical blade. Felt its power surge from within me—like it belonged to me, or I belonged to it.


	43. Chapter 43

I had too many questions on my mind to care about torturing a corpse.

Kiers was still alive, but just barely; and we both knew that wouldn't be the case for long. With the injuries she'd sustained, there was no way she would survive, escape, or even move. She was curled up, panting breaths that were short and wheezing. Eyes tightly closed with tears of incredible agony seeping through. Yes, it was over for her, but not for me. For me it was just the beginning.

I squeezed the knife, firmly, in my hand and fought the urge to kick the girl painfully cringing at my feet, then turned to leave.

That girl's imminent death was the last thing on my mind; I had other things concerning me, and I had to know the truth about them. I had to know 'how' this humming blade had turned me into such a monster and whether or not a single part of me had even bothered to fight it; if any small piece of me had survived.

These thoughts I had, doubts perhaps, they didn't add up. I was a dark and murderous psychopath willing to betray my own brother. Kill him, even. And yet I still remembered how to fear for his safety. It didn't make sense. And for this blade to erase my entire existence? No. Not the mighty Dean Winchester. He was brave and fearless. A strong and courageous warrior who'd stared death in the face, countless times, and lived to talk about it. He would keep fighting, always. No questions. No matter how many cards were stacked against him. No matter the odds. No matter the cost. There was no way he would give up without a fight. Surely a part of him was still in me. Fighting. Kicking. Screaming to get out.

I knew exactly how to find this part of me, too. It was simple.

I left Kiersa dying on the floor and walked out of the cave—past my master's chambers. At first, I feared she might hear me. Catch me. Kill me. But not that stupid fool, I was far too clever for her. After her last threat, I bet she never even suspected I would disobey her orders. She just stood there, by the light of a small crack in the cave wall, staring so intently down at her own hand— as if in it she held the world.

A part of me felt like singing out, in mockery, but I kept quiet. I didn't know why she was so fixated on her own damn hands, or why she was rubbing her fingertips together like they were new to her, or sticky. I didn't care, either, I just kept walking. Exiting the cave and making my way up a path that led me to the back yard of an old, run down, blue house.

I did not raise a finger to open the rusted bulkhead doors, I simply thought it, and it happened. They swung open, crashing loudly on the earth. Harsh daylight flooded the musty basement, and there she was. My prize. My Eden. My haven and solace. My answers.

If I had anything left to lose, it was her. If I had anything left to feel, it was for her. If I had any last hope for salvation, she was it— and there she hung, right where I'd left her, strung up in the basement of the Mill Hill house.

Her angelic face framed perfectly by red hair. Dried blood down her arms and legs. Pure disgust in her expression. She'd recognized me even before my eyes had adjusted to the dark.

"I should have known," Mariah scoffed disdainfully disgusted as the stairs creaked beneath me. Step by step I made my way to her, smile growing with every inch. I placed my free hand on her shoulder and hid the knife behind my back.

"Is this what you did to my sister?"

She had glanced nervously at the hand I'd placed on her, but stared me straight in the eyes as she asked that question. I'm not quite sure she was looking at me, though; she was looking for Dean. Waiting for the idiot she'd had lunch with, and flirted with, to show some signs of remorse. Regret. Self-hatred or shame.

I felt nothing.

Her glares just rolled right off me, and when I stared back, so emptily, I felt a fear begin building in her chest. She shook her head angrily and pulled away from my gentle embrace.

I smiled, and reached for her face. She tried biting me as I cupped her cheekbone, and when she did, I shoved her head back into the wall and moved in closer—burring my nose in her neck. "I need you, Mariah."

She pulled away as far as her ties would let her, groaning furiously into my hand. Her heart was beating so fast; I couldn't help but smile.

"Please." I begged insincerely, as she bit harder on my hand, hoping to ward me off. She smelled so sweet the pain didn't matter. I felt her eyes close and her breaths turn frantic. It made me wonder how much further I could turn her neck before it'd snap.

"Something tells me this is wrong." I whispered in her ear, "But I don't care."

I let my fingernails dig into her skin, and brought my other hand to her knee. Closed my eyes just as I jabbed that blade into her leg, taking my own deep breath of her as she cried. As I dug that knife up her leg, the strength in her jaw faded and warm tears began streaming down my hand. I laughed and pulled away.

Her eyes were so watery, I could tell she could hardly see. She blinked a half-dozen times and tried her darndest to keep her head steady, but as she panted, painfully, I knew. Not a spec of 'Dean Winchester' remained in me.

"Is this what you did to her? ..Sick bastard.." Mariah asked when she finally got the room to stop spinning. "IS THIS WHAT YOU DID TO MY SISTER?!" She shrilled, venomously spitting out every ounce of energy she had in a lame attempt to bother my ears.

I didn't give her the satisfaction of a response. I just stared so blankly at her, and it made her skin crawl. Then I took my knife and dug it deep into her left arm, from shoulder to elbow. She squirmed, so I had to pin her down again and again as I cut her. Each slice she screamed louder and louder, but somehow I couldn't hear it. I toned it out, fixating on the only sound that made sense. Her blood. Pulsating like the dagger.

"Go to hell." She whispered when I was done. I stepped back and wiped the sweat from my face, smearing her blood all over my skin. I didn't know what had come over me, but I sure know what had stopped me. It had clicked me out of that trance like a dog whistle. It was Darkness, or at least her words._ "Single cuts only, starting with the hip. Don't hold back."_

I lifted her shirt ever so slightly, sending her into a new sort of panic, and brought the blade to her hip. Her stomach pulled in, away from it's jagged tip. What would it do to her? The sister of a witch. Would it turn her? Why here at the hip?

"What do you want from me?" She gasped, and before I'd even realized what I'd wanted myself, I gave my reply.

"I already told you. I want you. I need you."

I don't know why, but I needed her. One way or another, I needed this girl to be mine.

"Say it." I begged, but she cared not for the desperation in my eyes. "Say you're mine!" I screamed, slashing that knife across her stomach. "Say it!" I hollered again, digging it into her thigh; dragging it down to her knee. Something in me snapped, and I think it was hope. I slashed at her in an angry fury I could not control. All my senses were lost, again, in a clouded, angry blur.

Then, when I was done, I felt nothing. Not happiness, or remorse.

I don't think Mariah felt anything either. Not fear. Not pain. Not hate. There was an odd calm about her; as if she knew she was going to die and as if it didn't matter. As if she was okay with it.


	44. Chapter 44

Brief update, more coming just as soon as I get the words to come out right!

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That was it.

It had been the sweetest rapture I had ever known, and as I stood there desperately fighting to recover from it, Mariah closed her eyes. I closed mine too. I had to stop the room from spinning.

It was hard to explain, but I was strong again somehow. The way I felt before Darkness had drained me. Maybe even stronger. It was an almighty high that left me feeling connected with everything. The air, the earth, the ground and bugs. The walls, cement, and gardening tools—everything around me, especially the girl. I felt her soul pleading with me, begging me just to end her miserable existence. I couldn't.

Don't get me wrong, killing her would have been simple. It would have been easy to have snapped her neck, or to have buried that dagger deep in her heart, but I needed more than that; I needed a challenge, and only when I realized this did a strange peace wash over me.

Suddenly the room did stop spinning, and everything, yet again, made sense. That connection I had with Mariah was the same connection Darkness had with Sammy after she'd slashed him. By right, and by every law of nature, he should have died, but he didn't. Darkness wouldn't let him. And I remembered what she said to me as I lurked, quietly, in the shadows that night: _'They won't hear us because I won't let them. The same way I won't let your brother wake up.'_

Someway, somehow, Darkness could control things. Life. Death. Perception. She had turned my brother into a plaything. A little toy to poke, prod and torture into submission. She had done this to me, too, in a way. I was nothing more than a puppet made to do her bidding--to turn Sam, and kill his would-be lover. Well, enough was enough. I was done being used. I had the knife, I had the power, and it was my turn to control things. It was time to change 'the plan.'

"Kill you?" I smiled blankly. Her eyes met mine one last time, only to realize I had other plans for her.

My attention turned to the throbbing dagger I held in the palm of my right hand. I squeezed it tight, knowing that its slowly fading pulse was her heart, and though I knew I could snuff it out at any point, I just shook my head. "No."

I lifted my left hand and let it hover, calmly, over her head as I told her body to stay strong. "No, I'm not going to kill you." I said, willing her to keep on livng. "I'll have you, one way or another..."

In my head I longed to tell her how we'd always be together. Of how I'd make her join me, just as I had forced Kiersa to join Darkness. But I couldn't tell her that now. I needed to see the surprise in her eyes as I dragged in the body of her barely breathing sister. I would give her the same choice—to save the one she loved. The same chance to save Kiersa as I'd given Kiers to save Sam. And then I would kill her anyway; Mariah would be mine, and we would be together for eternity.

I turned and left without saying another word.


	45. Chapter 45

Wow, this chapter has been a tough one to write; I know where the story is going, I'm still just having a hard time figuring out which way to get it there. Hopefully this way works =D

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I felt foolish for ever thinking even the smallest part of me could feel anything but anger, hate, and disgust. Remorse? That was for cowards. Cowards like Darkness, but no, not me. No, there was a darkness inside me that no light could escape. No hope. No shimmer of faith. I was a pit—a deep, dark pit that would forever burn in hell.

My spirit seemed refreshed with this realization: I was evil. The purest of pure evil, and it was as simple as that. And the fact I seemed to share Darkness' ability to control life and death made me giddy with delight. I couldn't even begin to think of all the things I could do with the powers and strength I had. I was invincible.

I did have one weakness, however. For reasons I couldn't explain, I needed to have Mariah. She was an obsession I couldn't escape. So, as fast as mortally possible, I'd stormed back to the cave and into the cove where I'd left Kiersa dying. I planned to grab her hair and drag her rotting carcass to her sister's feet. Demand Mariah to join me or else. I didn't know if it would work, but sensible thinking was beyond me. I was, quite possibly, mad.

Rounding the bend in the cave, and arriving at my destination, my body just about jumped out of its skin. Sitting right where I had left Kiersa was Darkness. This definitely changed my plans.

I swallowed a nervous gulp of air and waited for her lecture, or wrath. Whichever came first. She had to be angry with me for what I had done—for breaking orders and stealing her knife—I knew she'd ring my neck for it. But, like I said, I was feeling pretty powerful so I tightened my grip on the weapon. Dried blood felt tight upon my skin and the fear inside me swelled; I wondered if I even stood a chance of defeating her. Still I knew it was now or never. It was kill or be killed.

"Congratulations," Her words echoed in the pit of my stomach, tossing me off guard. Something in her voice seemed geniune, which confused me; I had done nothing worth congratulating. I waited for some condescending remark, or a sarcastic report of my disobedience, but none came.

"Was it what you expected?" She asked, drawing little squiggly lines on the bloodied ground.

My eyes narrowed as I tried to figure out what she meant. "It?"

I don't think she caught on that I was clueless, either. She just smiled at me and explained."Killing the witch." She said with a look of adoration in her eyes. She stood and began approaching me, still oblivious in regards of my failure. "Are you satisfied?"

"No..." I responded out of frustration, and confusion. I was more than suspicious, now. What was she talking about? Killing the witch? Was it a trick question? It had to be, I hadn't actually... I looked around for Kiersa, thinking she'd died on her own, but she was nowhere to be found. I looked down at my clothes, stained with Mariah's blood; She must have thought that I had killed Kiersa.

"Her body..." I mouthed to myself, wondering where it could have gone. Darkness seemed to mistake my curiosity as a confession.

"I don't care what you did with it, just so long as it doesn't attract any attention. We don't need any hunters sniffing around here. Not with what I'm about to do." She said, curling her fingers around my bloody arm. I gulped, again, at her touch. This had to be a trick. This was all an act—an act to punish me for my latest failure. For letting her down. But I was too smart for that. I was too strong, too. I had to kill her.

I stepped back, pulling myself away from her grasp, then squeezed even tighter on the blade. I was trying to hone in on her life force, just like I had Mariah's. I studied her long and hard, but I just couldn't find it.

"I'm glad you are still hungry," She blabbed on, "it means I chose you wisely. You're mine forever, now, Dean. With this sin comes the closing of our pact."

She didn't have a heartbeat, or if she did, I couldn't find it. I tried not to panic. There had to be a way to kill her, pulse or not. I studied her face, to the point where I could have drawn her blind. I even focused on that damn pendant of hers, but I just couldn't find a way to kill her. I squeezed as hard as I damn could on that blade, and glared even harder, but I just couldn't find a way to kill her.

Her curiosity broke my concentration."What's wrong with you?" She snapped; I shook away the thoughts of my evil deed and smiled.

"Nothing. I was just thinking." I said. Thinking of ways to kill you, I chuckled--hoping that she wasn't listening to the voice in my head. For some reason, I didn't think she could hear my thoughts anymore. I wasn't strong enough to kill her, yet, but I was stronger than I had been. Draining Kiersa's strength had been empowering, and even though Darkness had drained it out of me, I think I still had enough left to protect my thoughts. Or maybe I had grown stronger by unleashing my rage on Mariah--evil strength-training? It made sense, in theory, because if Darkness had known what I'd been thinking, I'd already be dead.

"Well, don't think too hard." She retorted smugly, "You wouldn't want to hurt yourself. We've got a lot of work to do now that we have our new powers. It's time."

I could have cared less for what she wanted, but the mention of new powers quickly caught my attention. "New powers?" I inquired, watching carefully as to not seem too desperate for the information.

"Hm," she looked me over carefully. "They must not have manifested in you, yet. Doesn't surprise me." She smiled, "You're still learning. But, yes, it seems that troublesome girl was worth it after all,"

Darkness' lower lip dropped, seductively, and her hand lifted from her side. "Do you know what makes a witch a witch?"

Slowly her fingers turned inward, towards her body and as if she was scooping up air, and between them, a great, white, energy formed as her eyes grew darker than black. "It's not just the conjuring and spells, and the satanic rituals. That's black magic. What makes a true witch is her connection with the world. A tie so deep few ever recognize it."

"You feel it, don't you?" She smiled, devilishly. "Surging within you; it's bubbly." With a final smile, she slapped her hand downward so that the ball smashed to the ground leaving only a smoking crater in the earth. She reached over and took the knife from my hand, and placed a kiss on the side of my cheek. "Don't worry. It took some time for it to manifest in me, and you've only just killed her." Then she smirked, "You thought that draining her gave you power?" She took my face in her hand, squeezing it tight. "You ain't seen nothin' yet, kid."

She gently slapped my face, twice, and took the knife from my gasp.

"Dine with me tonight; you are going to need some of that strength back."


	46. Chapter 46

Way more fun to write! Hope it is a good rush!

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Darkness dismissed me shortly after her invitation to dinner, which was convenient.

I had far more important matters to deal with, and I didn't have time to waste sitting around feasting on flesh, or brains, or whatever a monster like her ate. Besides, I wasn't hungry anyway. I hadn't remembered being hungry since she'd turned me. The only things I had since craved were power, destruction, Mariah, and now killing Kiersa.

I had to kill a damn witch to fulfill my destiny; it was the only thing that made sense.

I had to be with Mariah, and Kiersa had to die to make that happen. Though I wasn't exactly sure how it would work, I knew it would. I just knew. Her death would be the sealing of my pact with Darkness, and it would give me untold powers. I had to find her.

Since history told me that Kiers had only one place to hide, I closed my eyes and thought of her bedroom. The olive green walls and dark-wood furniture. Soft vanilla candles, and paintings of white lilies. Such a peaceful place for my massacre.

I opened my eyes and I was there.

The shades were drawn shut, like no one was home, but I knew better. I knew she was there. Hiding. Alone and scared. I could feel her heart beating as she slowly bled to death. I was, of course, eager to expedite the process.

I smelled blood, and fear, but the room looked perfectly in tact. There was an abundance of pillows upon the neatly made sleigh bed, and such meticulous order with her things. That would have to change, I thought, taking note of the bureau's large, glass, mirror. I smiled thinking of how much fun I could have.

I quieted the breathing of my own body to listen for hers; any breath, any movement, any squirm or step. At first the room was completely silent, but as I listened harder, I could hear everything. My focus was so tuned that I could barely see straight. A dog barked across the street and something slammed shut—a car door or trunk. I think someone even screamed, but I didn't care. That was just an eerie foreshadowing, I thought. It didn't matter. Only Kiers mattered. _  
_

I approached the bed, lifting the box spring and mattress with a single flick of my hand, but she wasn't there. It was odd because I could have sworn that was where she'd been hiding. I heard her worries in my head as she thought about how weak she was, and that she could never take me on.

"That's right," I hollered, as I discovered the blood trail leading to her secret hiding place—the closet. How could I forget the closet. It's always the closet. "Game over, doll face. Come on out, and I'll make it quick."

A wave of excitement washed over me as I approached the door. It was exhilarating, and frightening at the same time. This cat-mouse game was over, and it was time for her to meet her maker. She was all mine.

I opened the door slowly, giving my fish ample time to squirm. She lay, curled up in the corner—hands wrapped forcefully around her bleeding gut, where the dagger had been. She looked away from me and stared at the wall, surrendering effortlessly.

She knew just by the gash in her belly—just by the blood she'd lost—that she was dying.

I knew it because of the way she'd loosened up the grasp on her belly, it was over. A kill was a kill, but I was sad she wouldn't even fight it. Then, I heard a faint pounding that struck my curiosity. It wasn't her heart, it was something else, and it stopped before I could quite place it. Before I could convince myself that even that didn't mater, I heard my name called behind me.

"Dean!" Sam's fragile voice questioned. I looked down, and breathed twice, while reviewing my options. I knew in my head that he was weak and vulnerable. He wanted his brother more than anything, and it would have been easy for me to have turned to him with my soft, apologetic eyes and tell him everything he'd been longing to hear. In this position, I could easily get back his trust and Darkness would be pleased. However, that meant sacrificing my future with Mariah—at least for the time being.

I closed my eyes and let the fury fade. I thought calm, solemn thoughts and kept my head down until I felt Sam's hand on my shoulder, turning me to face him.

The only problem with this scenario was the witch in the closet. She could easily ruin my entire scheme, so as I turned to Sam, I let my left hand rise to strangle the girl where she sat. She felt my powers snap hold of her tender neck.

Instinctively, her own hands left her wounded stomach in a desperate act of self preservation. It was, however, obviously useless as she had nothing to grab hold of.

I smiled.

"Is that really you?" Sam's eyes begged me, even for a lie.

I felt uneasy turning my attention from Kiers, but I knew it would be awkward if I continued staring into the dark closet. I did, however notice, I had a great view of her in the mirror behind Sam. The asphyxiating girl hand her hands pressed awkwardly on the wall behind her. I caught her reflection in the mirror just as her eyes began to flutter shut. Her face was red; her heart beating drastically in its lame attempt to find oxygen.

I finally, and slowly turned to Sam who stepped back and aimed a riffle to my head. "Sam!" I gasped quietly, as if he was mad.

"What's gotten into you?" I said, appalled. Hoping my shock would cool the anger in his eyes. Meanwhile, the deception in me swelled. I wondered if he saw the blood on my shirt, or the darkness in my eyes and soul. I breathed as deeply as I could and thought of another way to make my brother feel crazy, but he beat me to the punch.

"Who were you talking to?" he tipped his head curiously, as if he'd caught me in a lie, then steadied it as he realized he just might have to shoot me. The horror spread across his face and he braced himself for my response.

"What?" I laughed off his suspicions, trying my hardest to get my eyes to beg him to reconsider, "Sammy, come on. It's me. Dean. Your brother?"

I thought desperate thoughts, and he bit his lip, struggling to believe I was me again. And he had just about bought it, until that bitch knocked something over in the closet. A loud ensemble of shattering crashes pierced Sam's internal dilemma, and without second thought he shot three rounds in me.

I laughed as I stood there, unaffected, then sent him hurling back towards the window. With him out of the way, and hopefully on the street below, I whipped my attention, and full wrath, towards the closet. I'd unintentionally released her after being pierced with rock salt, but I was going to tear her to shreds now. Before I could get my hands back on her, though, she'd knocked me to my feet. With a force that surprised us both, she came at me with a rage in her eyes I'd seen only in Darkness herself. It swallowed her whole.

She followed my hurled body with the sheer wrath only a woman could have.

"Sammy!" I hollered, hoping that he'd at least shoot her out of sympathy or confusion. He thought about it, I heard it in his soul, but he failed me in action. He just watched Kiers as she angrily approached my immobilized corpse.

I was stronger than her, though, and all I needed was a single distraction to regain the upper hand; this didn't come until she was upon me. That was when I got my chance. My brother actually helped me out, out pity or complete stupidity, he shot Kiers down a peg—not with a bullet but with those gosh darn puppy-eyes of his. She had just knelt down to, quite possibly, rip out my jugular with her bare hands, and Sam, not knowing if he could trust her, called her name out ever so gently.

"Kiers,"

Oh, the eyes. His soft, pleading eyes just about broke her heart, and while I wished he'd just blown her brains out, I knew I couldn't complain. After all, beggars can't be choosers.

Tables turned the moment she looked at him, and I was able to overthrow her pitiful attempt to end me. I lunged for her throat, and it was like taking destiny into my hands. My claws dug deep into her skin as salty bullets pelted my back, but nothing could stop me. And when I had her pinned to the ground, I not only drained the rest of her energy, I stuck my hand up under her shirt—hoping to tear open that flesh wound of hers and send her screaming to the afterlife.

Well, her fight faded alongside her consciousness, but before I could even locate an organ to rip out, I realized that, for whatever reason, and by whatever miracle, her wound was gone. I know Darkness had stuck her good with that blade, but she was completely healed. I bent over her, trying desperately to stick my fingers in her gut, not realizing Sam was back with his stupid gun.

It felt sharp and heavy as it smashed into the side of my head. I hit the ground faster than I saw it coming, and for some reason the only reaction I had to it was to blink my eyes. Stupid, broken body. I couldn't move my arms, my hands felt disconnected. I clumsily grabbed for Kiers as Sam pulled her into his arms.

Traitor. I thought, not so aware of who had betrayed me. Kiers for going against her own kind, or Sam for going against his own blood. It made mine boil, the sight of them. I had to kill them both. I just had to. I felt the heat steaming from my body, and it almost gave me the strength to stand. It was just too late Before I could get my legs to work Sam was carrying Kiers out of the bedroom. I blinked my eyes again, back to focus, and pushed my body up as he carried her out of sight.


	47. Chapter 47

**HAPPY HALLOWEEN!**

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I cursed at the two of them under my breath as the ground shifted beneath me.

The room was spinning, and I couldn't stop it. I couldn't stand it. I couldn t stand. Something was very, very wrong.

My heavy body fell backwards against the mattress I'd earlier tossed aside, leaving blood smears wherever it touched. Whether the blood was mine or hers, or even Sam's, did not matter at that point. Nothing mattered except getting my damn orientation back. I could barely move. The grace and strength I once had was now depleted, so I knew the witch had drained me. Or tried. But like I said something was off, because I hadn't felt this way when Darkness had done it, but, then again, Darkness was a pro.

I breathed heavily, rolled to my side, and pushed with all my might to lift myself, but it was useless. I pushed left and my arms tumbled right. Legs went left. I wanted to scream but I couldn't find the muscles. I gave up and lay helpless in the aftermath of my rage.

The room was torn apart. Bloody sheets, broken glass. I could see the window that had shattered, but it amazed me-the fact Sam hadn't been thrown out of it. The witch must have stopped him. Bitch. I'd kill her. I would rip out her heart and make her eat it. No. I'd rip out Sam's heart and make her eat his. I'd tear the flesh from his bones and make her a stew, then shred the horror off her face with my bare hands. If only I could move.

For a little while everything went black, and I felt nothing. Pain had vanished, time had stopped, and everything I had desired was long forgotten. I was suspended in a big pool of nothing until the foul smell of decay struck my nostrils. The odor alone had convinced me I was no longer in Kiers' room, but it was my opened eyes that confirmed it.

I saw death. Not the man himself, but in a man. His dead eyes were staring straight into mine. His body was contorted, mingled with other dead bodies. Several others. Maybe more than ten. All dead and piled up upon each other. This took me by surprise. I blinked to see if I had been deceived, but the smell of a dozen rotting corpses flooded my senses. Made me hungry, even if they all smelled empty.

I heard a soft, painful gasp to my left, and rolled my head in that direction. I saw Darkness, with her hand pressed upon a woman's forehead. My master's eyes lit up and she extended her other hand in my direction. The woman groaned, and I could see her life force slowly draining from her body and into mine. I could feel the soft embers of my powers begin roaring inside of me, kindling the beast I once was. I clenched my fists, and when I felt my fingers move, I knew I was back. I sat up and smiled.

"You are alive." Sarcasm floated from my master's lips. The sudden sound of her voice had startled me, but my reaction went unnoticed. Darkness curled her fingers over her pendant and the soft glow in her eyes faded. The woman beside her fell to the ground and promptly had her neck snapped by an unseen force.

"It's a shame to waste her on you; she had such potential." Darkness looked her latest corpse over, disappointedly, and used her powers to hurl her to the pile. "And I was still hungry. So what happened to you?" She turned her signature snarl towards me.

"The witch's sister." I lied with an angry glare; must have been convincing, as she became increasingly interested the more I fabricated. "I made the mistake of letting her live. I never should have gone against you, Master, forgive me."

"Red Witch lives? I had a feeling.." Her smile faded, but not into dismay. I could tell she was thinking, hard, but not about me or my punishment for pardoning Mariah. No, she almost looked pleased. I could see the wheels turning in her head. "This changes things. Bring me to her."

"Yes." I smiled, feeling uneasy inside. I did not want to give up my Mariah, but I had no choice in the matter. I had to play along, and so I closed my eyes and thought of her soft red hair. When I opened my eyes, Darkness and I were in front of my love's unconscious body.

"At least the damage was mutual." Darkness grinned to herself as she reached out to collect a drop of Mariah's blood on her fingertip. She brought the red liquid to her lips and tasted it. "You haven't turned her yet?" She asked sounding surprised. "She is weak, but much stronger, than her sister. She will be perfect."

I did not know what she meant, but it made me nervous. I did not know how this change of events would affect my plan. Would Mariah still love me if Darkness was the one to turn her? Would she join me in overthrowing Darkness, or would she remain loyal to our Master and spoil my efforts?

"The thing I like most about her is that she doesn't lie to me." Darkness stared right through me. I felt my heart skip a beat. I knew that somehow I had been made.

"Oh, save your breath," She laughed before I could speak. She placed her hand alongside Mariah s cheek, patting her gently. Mariah stirred a bit, but I could see the haze in her eyes. She could barely see straight, let alone hear us.

"She obviously wasn't the one to drain you if she hasn't been turned yet. So tell me the truth, was it the witch who drained you?"

"Yes." I mumbled from the side of my mouth.

"And this grand scheme of yours, did you really think you were going to get away with it? Hm?" She pried violently grabbing Mariah s face. Her deathly eyes turned to me and burned my skin. "You Winchesters think you are so clever, but I knew. All along, I knew she was alive, and I let you have her, because I wanted to see just what you were planning. I have to say I expected more from you, Dean. It's sickening to see you clinging to that mortal mentality of yours. I give you the world and all you want is a happily ever after with your dark queen?"

I lowered my head, in an attempt to apologize again, but she stopped me.

"Save your breath. You're a moron who has nothing to apologize for. You sabotaged your own half-assed plan before you could even set it in motion. Do you really think she'd have you now? Knowing what you did to her sister? Unless that was a lie too..." Darkness' eyes stared into mine, looking for an honest answer. "Tell me, is the witch dead?

"Yes." I said. Even though it was not the truth, it might as well have been. That bitch was as good as dead, and the second I saw her, she would know it too.

"She'd better be, because I don't have time for any more setbacks."

"She's dead. I sliced her open, just like you asked. She escaped, beat me up pretty bad, but I found her. Tracked her down and I tore her to pieces." I smiled.

I saw Mariah's brow crumple from the corner of my eye; she shook her head in disbelief, then squinted as if that would make what she'd just heard sound better. As if her sad stare would break me into telling her the truth she longed for. Darkness caught Mariah's reaction too, and her glance jumped between the two of us. I knew she was testing me to see if my soft side would crack with Mariah's broken eyes. It didn't. I just laughed, and a slight grin appeared on Darkness' face.

"Looks like you have nothing left to live for," Master whispered seductively. "What say you, girl? Can I end your suffering?"


	48. Chapter 48

Mariah seemed to refuse the change, which frustrated me. Call me an anti-idiot, or a genius or something, but I had learned a great deal from my mistakes with Kiers, and I knew that letting Mariah live had the potential to cause the same aggravation. I knew better. If it had been up to me, I would have ripped her throat out through her chest, but Darkness said we needed to wait. Let the girl "marinate" for a while.

Mutilate. Mangle. Mess up. Martyr. Maim. These were the terms that came to mind when I thought of Mariah's fate, and somehow, for some strange reason, 'marinating' her did not come to mind. At first, I didn't even think she knew what she was talking about—thought it was just one of those things lost in translation— but as I stood thinking up possible M-words the moron could have mistaken 'marinate' for, she invited me to dinner. After that conversation, things started to make sense.

"Are you hungry?" She asked me, leaning against the musty wall behind her. She didn't look genuinely concerned about my hunger level, she just looked like she was plotting something.

"I can't tell you what hunger feels like." I said, searching for the memory. "And, besides, I've never been into the whole Hannibal Lector thing."

I made that joke, even though the thought of feasting on flesh was somewhat appealing. I smiled to myself, thinking of the fear I could smell as I gnawed on some poor bastard's bones. I could imagine the anguished screams for help and mercy. Suddenly cannibalism didn't seem so gross, but rather intimate. A perfect form of torture. Yes, I would marinate Mariah. Marinate. Mince. Masticate. Marvelous.

"Your body doesn't need food, Dean." My master laughed with a hungry smile, "It needs me." She waved her hand once and we were back in the cave. I wasn't surprised with her little parlor tricks, but I threw on a fake look of awe to boost her ego. If I could get her talking, I might get her to slip and tell me her latest scheme. Little did I know, she was already telling me. Something about the look on my face softened her smile, "You know what's inside of you,"

"Nothing." I replied with the same emptiness I felt in me.

"That's right. That pesky little soul of yours is on lockdown, and the true Dean Winchester is free to play. That is who you are now. The killer, the monster? Live and uncensored. Unleashed to shine. To be the very animal you were born to be. I set you free." She smiled like a proud parent and closed her eyes. Her hand rose to her chest and rested above her pendant as she searched for something. In no time at all, a teenage boy appeared in what seemed to be a trance.

"But I am limited in this place. Weak. And it's not my job to set the world free. I'm just here to rattle the cage. Prepare the troops. Stoke the fire. Unleash the beast."

She'd lost me at that point. I was too busy analyzing the boy. He smelled rotten, like a snake in the grass. I could see he had done something horrid; he had blood on his hands. I could not see it, but I could smell it, though I couldn't detect a hint of remorse. He was like me. One of us. Souless. He was panicked, though, afraid of being caught. I smirked as I wondered about his story. Had he killed someone in cold blood? Must have. His energy was so dark.

"I've planted seeds all over this city." Darkness said, "My eyes, my ears, and meals." She snarled and drew the boy closer with the curl of her finger.

"First I cut them. Let my poison seep into their bodies, and then, they are a part of me. Just like you."

"Unless they are special. Like Sam. And the witches."

She hummed with delight, "Smart boy. I'll admit I'm glad I kept you around."

I smiled, like the proud son.

"No, I can infect them, but I can't turn them. Some natural defense, or stupid fine print." She mumbled. "They could change anytime they want, but it has to be their choice." Her muttering continued, somewhat softer. As though she was still working through the problem in her head.

"But you." She looked up at me and shook her head, with amazement. "You cracked the code. Got the witch to turn, which was quite a feat in itself. Then, as an added bonus, I got her powers. When she became problematic, you took care of it. I'll admit, it was touch and go for a while, there, but you've proven to be invaluable to the plan."

"Pater Nex" I grinned, though a part of me wondered if one man could really could destroy the world.

"I think it is finally time, but first, let's eat." She said closing her eyes and turning to the boy. Her hand reached for his forehead, and though I saw nothing with my eyes, I saw the force she sucked from his body; it was as black as night.


	49. Chapter 49

We drained the boy of his evil, and the monster that was in him became a part of us. I felt stronger and ready for our mission, but Darkness was hesitant.

Twelve courses later, with a pile of fresh corpses before our feet, she turned to me and told me of her plan.

I will admit that it was beautifully sweet; I grinned from ear to ear when I heard it, because I could think of no finer torture for my dear brother. The only thing that made me happier was in knowing I had definitely inspired her brutal idea. It was quite similar to the stunt I had pulled with Kiersa, only far more angsty.

Darkness herself even told me how I had helped her devise it. She told me how, by being inside me, she now understood the complexity of the human emotion. She knew how I felt about everything—the old me, anyway— and she knew if Sam felt the same way, which he did, she could use it to her advantage. The plan was to play with his emotions, exploit his weaknesses, and the only thing she needed was someone else he had loved and lost like me, and that is where I came in. I knew exactly who that was, and how to hit home.

She sent me on my way to find my brother. I knew to find Sam I would have to find his little girlfriend. Conveniently, finding her would mean that I could also kill her to cover up the fact that I had failed to do so previously. Two birds with one stone.

With Darkness' theory, about us all being connected, I figured Kiers would be easier to locate, but the more I searched for her, the more I realized this was untrue. Either she had found a way to block me, or she was out of range (if that were possible.) I decided upon the next best thing. Sam himself. If he was 'infected' as Darkness had suggested, I should be able to find him just as easy as I thought I would find Kiers. Finding Sam was far easier. I closed my eyes and listened for the pathetic sound of his voice, "That's crazy!" he hollered as a spring breeze filled my nostrils with fresh air.

"What other choice do we have?" Kiers questioned with agitation, and a sort of determination that grew with her words as she spoke. "I know I can do this. I made up my mind, I just…"

I opened my eyes in time to see Sam shake his head. I could tell he was annoyed by the look on his face, but he asked anyway. "Just what?"

Her pause softened his glare a bit, and she let out a sigh as she carefully chose the wording of her next sentence. "I need to know you'll keep fighting."

"I promised you I would fix this." He said sternly, but that did not ease the worry I felt radiating from her skin.

"I need you to promise to fight it." She said cautiously, with a new fear looming in her gut. I knew she was afraid of saying too much and giving him some crazy ideas. Since the success of Darkness' plan rode on the element of surprise, I was glad she did not say too much, but it did make me wonder. She obviously knew something of our plan, and I needed to know how much and how she knew it. Things she would never tell me if I ambushed her now. Instead, I tried honing in on her memories.

"I will not stop until I have saved you and Dean." He said reassuringly; it made me want to gag.

Kiers did not say another word. Her eyes fell away from his as she debated if that answer had been the promise she'd been looking for. I could tell by the look in her eye she already knew the 'Saving Dean' ship had sailed, which lead me to believe she also knew her own fate was grim. She just didn't have the heart to tell him before she disappeared.

Bitch. Always screwing up my plans. Whatever. I could kill her later. The Houdini stunt she pulled worked to my advantage, anyway. With Sam off guard it was more than easy to sneak up behind him and smash him unconscious.


	50. Chapter 50 WAHOO!

He woke up, squinting his eyes and mumbling her name.

I smiled, not because I was at all interested in his post-concussion babble, but because I was in character. "Sammy." I whispered softly with a nod of desperation, the way a long lost father would most likely greet his son if given the chance.

"Dad?"

His hand rose to his skull, where I had gladly introduced my fists and touched delicately against his bruised forehead. His dizzy eyes adjusted, and hardened, to the sight of me.

He was clearly alarmed and obviously unwilling to return the affection I had fabricated, but his skepticism was easy to counter. I'd dealt with it many times before. I just dropped my head a bit and turned from him with a gentle grin.

I had seen Dad have that same reaction so many times it was damn near automatic for me. Heck, I'm sure I'd done it myself a handful of times. Sam took a few uneasy breaths as he waited for me to speak.

"What's wrong, son?" I joked, looking up with my sad eyes. "I know you've seen a ghost before… After all, I trained you to hunt'em."

I let a wry laugh escape my lips, remembering the way Dad would always half-smirk with a joke like that. The gesture seemed to upset Sam, though, and not because he didn't trust his eyes; he was upset because he wanted to believe so badly that I was real, even though he knew better.

He knew better than to even entertain the thought of Dad's apparition stopping by for a chat, and so he treated me like poison. He shook his head and scoffed at me, offended. The disgust in his eyes should have burned right through my skin.

"Fine." I let one last tender beam escape my lips before turning from him and becoming distant. "I don't blame you for not trusting me. Heck, I don't trust me. I'm not even sure why I'm here. Or how I got out of Hell for that matter." I paused momentarily to add emphasis to that question, let my eyes travel briefly down a few possible, but fictional, scenarios of how John Winchester had escaped the pit, then returned to my conversation. "But I wanted you to know I'm ok. Dean's OK."

I saw his revulsion soften with the mention of my name, and I stuck to it. I should have known bringing myself into the conversation would change things. "He's here with me now, and he forgives you. We both do. We know it's not really your fault things turned out the way they did. Sometimes…" I sighed disappointedly, "Sometimes life just comes at you fast. You know that better than anyone, Sam."

The last bit of resentment he had in his eyes turned to confusion; I let my own heart break a bit to take advantage of his inner turmoil. After all, if I was Dad and my son had been killed because of his brother—at least that's the way I was spinning it in Sam's head—I would be disappointed.

My brow crumpled and I looked Sam over with sorrow in my eyes; he closed his own and turned away from me. It was clear he was struggling with so much and that agony kept him from speaking. I just smiled, but then something in his brain must have clicked because his head shook a bit and rose to the ceiling. The anger returned to his face and his body became so stiff he looked like a perfectly sculpted imploding statue.

"Who the hell are you?" He asked so coldly I felt a chill. "What do you want?"

His head leveled as his eyes turned to me, but his stare was harsh and empty. He would not consciously look at me for he knew I was a fraud; instead he looked right through me. I felt his insides burning with rage, and for a minute I was glad he was too stupid to do anything with it. After all, he was the boy protégé. The psychic destined to destroy the human race. If he knew the powers he harnessed, or was capable of harnessing, I'd be dead where I stood.

I chuckled, "What do I want? Son, I want you to face the facts. Salvage the rest of your life while you still can. Don't make the same mistakes your brother and I made. Get the hell out of Dodge and don't ever look back."

A deep and angry sound came from the back of Sam's throat as he shook his head. Then he stared at the ground, refusing to look at me as he formulated his response. I knew I had said something wrong. Something he knew Dad would never say, but Darkness spared me the wrath of his impending news flash. As he looked back up to tell me off, the fire died in his eyes, and I saw his breath ripped straight from his lungs.

I looked over my shoulder to see myself—well Darkness posed as myself, or Dean. Me—with an anguished look of defeat on her... or his…my face,

"Is it too cliché if I say boo?" The phony Dean scoffed in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"See?" I couldn't help but throw that in, with Dad's snarky, but gentle, told-you-so-voice. "Dean, tell your brother you're ok." I instructed, remorsefully.

"Yeah, because dead was top of my list for vacation spots." Dean said rolling his eyes; Sam's crumpled. He shook his head violently after falling into this bluff, but then looked up again did his best to hold himself together. It was really hard for me not to laugh.

I have to admit, Darkness voiced a pretty convincing Dean. She knew exactly what I would say and how I would say them. From the expression on my face right down to the syllables I'd emphasize, she knew me inside out like she was reading from scripts straight out of my brain.

"Dad's right. Sammy, this ain't your fault. None of it is. Hell, if you want to blame anyone, blame it on me. I screwed up, man." Darkness sighed and shook her head so that Dean appeared regretful.

I looked back at Sam for a minute and watched his face turn again; it was pretty entertaining. The moment fake-me took the blame for all of this, an angry sort of defensive look overrode the confusion on his face. He got so mad that I was blaming myself that he was ready to smack some sense into me; then, he remembered that he wasn't even sure if he could trust the two faces standing before him and all that anger broke into a look so broken I thought his brain was going to pop on the spot.

"It is what it is, Sammy. I drew the short straw. But this thing… It's way too powerful." Darkness said with a solemn warning in her eyes. Her fingers strummed her pendant, though Dean's arms appeared to scratch his neck.

In that moment I felt something odd wash over me; a feeling I recognized from when I had first turned, and it was as if some other's presence had entered my body. I felt it fill me, but I didn't fight it. I figured it was all part of the plan.

Dean continued his thought, uninterrupted. "You need help, Sam. You need to walk away, find Bobby, and.."

"Dean!" I suddenly snapped, as any father would to protect his son from the temptation about to be set. "Don't." My eyes begged, though I didn't know why. I didn't know where Darkness was going with this little puppet show of hers, but I was sure glad to have front row seats. I sat back in my brain and let her do the driving.

"What?" Dean scoffed, "That's the job. Isn't it? Saving people, hunting things. The family business—you remember the family business, don't you Dad? Or have you been down under so long you forgot?" Dean snapped at me.

"That's enough." Dad snarled before turning to Sam. "Sam you walk away from this one. That's an order."

Dean scoffed. "Are you serious? That girl could die, and you want him to just walk away? You know he can save her, he just needs help."

"Oh? So you want to kill your brother and up the body count? Great plan, Dean."

"You hypocrite." Dean snarled, and for a second I thought he was going to start throwing punches "Go back to hell." He breathed real heavily as if he realized he'd made a mistake in going off like that, "All I have ever done was protect him. For years while you were off risking all our lives with your stupid vendetta, and you dare say that to me? You raised us this way, Dad. To do the right thing."

I just laughed to myself. This was all so real. Even though I wasn't me, those were things I would have said to him—to both of them. I would have told Sam I was ok, and not to worry. I would have told him to find Bobby and keep fighting, too. And Dad? I would have said those things to Dad, had I ever the guts to stand up to him. I probably would have clocked him too. Yet, the things I'd said 'as' Dad were equally as true too. We would never let Sam go after this thing alone, knowing what I knew. The whole conversation was unnerving, to the point where I didn't know who I was anymore. I'm sure Sam felt the same way; his eyes narrowed and jumped back and forth between the two of us.

"The right thing killed you, and it killed me, and I'll be damned if I let it get Sammy too." Dad said with a sneer, and Dean stepped back. "He needs to leave it be."

"Dean, wait." Sam fought back the tears and let out a quick breath as he tried to compose himself. "Can I really stop this?"

Dad sighed, and Dean took a breath, staring at his father to really think about if he should say anything else.

"Dean, please." Sam begged, and Darkness licked her lips.

This was the kicker. I could feel it coming. I felt my skin hum with anticipation as I wondered just how Darkness would word it. I knew the plan had been to guilt-trip Sam into a deep pit of inner turmoil, but what I did not know what buttons she would push to get him to turn. Would she give him hope? Or would she just crush him? As I waited for the words to roll from her lips, my breaths grew deep with eagerness; I felt a sharp pain in my spine. My last thought was 'odd' before I felt my body smack, hard, into the wall behind me.

"Dad!" Sam gasped as I flew; he looked about as mad as I felt inside and he snapped his wrath towards the figure that had split us apart. "What did you..." The angry question started, but quickly lost its steam as he realized who stood before him.

Really, if I have to tell you who it was, you might as well stop reading right here. You should be able to figure it out by now; after all, she has been the one person constantly showing up to ruin everything throughout the entire story. Yeah, you guessed it. The bitch.

Something about her had changed, though, or at least I thought it did. From my angle (on the ground) it appeared as if she'd grown cold. Her eyes seemed darker but that might have just been her anger. It was honestly too dark to tell, until I stood.

Turns out, me standing was a mind-boggling experience for Sam. I had already forgotten about my costume, so I didn't think much about how 'Dad-me being thrown into wall and turning into Dean-me' would confuse my brother. All I thought about was ripping Kiers' spleen out through her throat.

"Dean?" Sam questioned with several blinks of his eyes. He then turned to fake-Dean to confirm he too was a poser. That was an even bigger surprise. "Meg?"

I didn't really catch much of that exchange, though. I was too busy staring at Kiers. She had definitely changed, which explained why Sam's reaction had changed so drastically before. It must have really shocked him to see her looking so… dead. Her skin was so pale it looked like the life had been sucked right out her, and her eyes. Her eyes were different. Her hair was different too. Both were much darker now; a raven's shade of black, really. You know the 'maybe it's green or maybe it's purple' kind of tinted black. Yeah, not important. Anyway I didn't have to wonder why—I could smell it—it was all the darkness inside of her. She'd given in.

"How's it taste, witch?" Meg sneered, also forgetting about Sam for the time being. "You know, I am impressed. I knew there was something missing, I thought it was just Dean manning up. Skimming a little power from the source, but it was you all along, wasn't it? You took it? But you're still holding on to that last bit of humanity. God. Let go and embrace it already."

"Kie.." Sam had barely gotten the first syllable of her name before her hand flew up to silence him. I have to say, I was impressed and maybe a little turned on. I expected Darkness to be the one to clamp my brother's throat shut, but apparently his little girlfriend was sick of him too. The moment he started speaking, Kiers' hand shot up to choke him quiet, just not for the reason I expected.

"Shut up. And run." Kiers said without even a glance in his direction. Sam squinted, obviously confused by the mixed signals, then gasped as she released his throat. Kiers' eyes slid my way, then back to Darkness. She was up to something, I just didn't know what. Digging her heels in, maybe. Perhaps acknowledging her defeat and coming to terms with her slow and now unavoidable death. I smiled until I realized I was wrong.

"Go!" Kiers snapped again, flashing her black eyes Sam's way.

Meg began laughing sinisterly as she looked the two over with amusement. That was when my moron of a brother decided it might be a good idea to listen.

"No, no. Really, stay!" Meg demanded, reaching her arm up to freeze Sam before he'd gotten too far. "I think you'll want to see this." She turned to Kiers with a chauvinistic grin.

"You know, you are a fascinating thing. I knew you were strong, but to still have your game face on after everything you too-" Darkness' words were cut short when Kiers narrowed her eyes, at first I was sure Meg was being asphyxiated, but a teeny tiny smile cracked her lips. Then she laughed again. "HmmMm Sorry. Did you think that was going to work on me?" A wild amusement shone in her eyes as she rolled them. "Here is a secret, witch. I'm not real. At least… not in the touchy-feely corporeal sort of way, so your little parlor tricks? They're useless."

The anger in Kiers' eyes turned instantly to confusion, and I laughed which made the confusion turn to fear as she remembered the odds were against her. I should have kept it to myself, though, because Meg shot me a glare that was far from impressed. "And you! You make an increasingly interesting spectacle. And an even bigger liar." She squeezed a fist and in it appeared her dagger. "Do you remember what I do with liars?"

Within an instant the knife shot across the cave and was lodged deep in my throat, which made the entire room jump. I choked for air, and instinctively tried pulling it out, but it was stuck. Held in place by Darkness' power. Warm blood dripped down my arms and torso as I gagged. Sam closed his eyes, mortified, and Kiers looked away, her eyes locking on to Meg's.

"See, Dean? That is the exact difference between me and you" Darkness turned from me with disgust. "I'm evil, and you're just full of it."

Meg then turned her attention back to Kiers as if nothing had happened.

"I suppose that may have been an overreaction on my part; After all, you not being dead is actually a nice sort of surprise." She stepped towards Kiers with a certain hunger in her eyes. "Now you can tell me how they work."

"They?" Kiers blinked,

"Come on. You already knew all this was going to happen, right? Tell me how you knew." Time was ticking by slowly; I could tell by the pounding beat of Kiers' heart. It was the loudest thing in the room. Ten loud and steady thumps shook my eardrums, before Darkness lost interest in the witch. "You're more pathetic than he is, you know. All that power gone to waste."

With a sweep of Meg's hand, Kiers flew off of her feet and crashed into the ground below, then, in an act of what I still consider payback, she tossed the witch's body into the wall with an incredible smash.

"What's your plan, now?" Darkness snarled, and with the flick of her wrist she brought Kiers to her knees. She snapped her fingers and I heard bones breaking and organs squishing within the girl's body. A deep and agonized scream escaped her lips, and she gasped for air in desperate search of some relief from the pain. "I asked you what your plan was, girl? Or have you none?"

I remembered the feeling of being torn apart from the inside, so a small part of me sympathized, but mostly I just laughed, feeling rather grateful about the dagger stuck in my neck.

Kiers closed her eyes and threw up her left hand as if that would somehow stop the pain, and Meg laughed, squeezing down harder on her target until Kiers dropped her body gave way and collapsed. Her rebellious arm landing on the ground with a thud. Kiers panted hard, her body trembling between waves of pain, but even beneath her sobs, I could hear her laughing ever so softly. She mumbled something inaudible, and snorted as if she had been victorious. Then she repeated herself in a louder voice, "You missed it."

Darkness shook her head as she tried to figure out what stunt the witch had pulled. I noticed right away, but I couldn't tell her, for obvious reasons. She must have caught onto my wave length though, because she soon looked over her shoulder to see that Sam was gone.

The grin on Kiers' face faded and she closed her eyes.

"Clever." Meg sighed and lifted her arm. The moment she did, the rest of Kiers' body became limp. Then she turned her full attention to me.


	51. Chapter 51

As I lay there—not dying, but still feeling an incredible discomfort in my neck— Darkness approached me with a distant look on her face. "They say that eyes are windows to the soul," She said, refusing to look at me.

"Black, evil. Green, envy. Yellow, wisdom. Mine, determination. Yours…? I should have known were trouble from the start. Red with lust."

She sighed and pulled the dagger from my throat, then cupped her hand over my wound. It healed instantly from her touch and her hand returned to her side. "You wanted everything you couldn't have."

I took a deep breath, blinking a few times, before speaking. "And the girl's?"

Meg looked over to Kiers' unconscious body and shook her head. "Disgrace is what it ought to be. But, no. Her eyes were once filled with hope."

"And now?" I asked, curious about the transformation.

"It's what remains when hope is lost. I told you turning a witch was like playing with fire. You should have killed her when you had the chance."

"I can kill her now. We can kill her now. Together."

"_We_ don't do anything anymore, Dean. The witch isn't the only one who has lost her hope."

My head half shook, puzzled by what she meant.

"Goodbye, Winchester." The Darkness said before her eyes lit up. They turned to me with pure ferocity, and I felt the life ripped from my bones. It all happened so fast, I barely knew it had hit me. The only thing I remember was when my body hit the ground. And that was it. I was dead.


	52. Chapter 52

The sound of a horn blaring in my ears woke me and the stench of week old garbage kept me from falling back asleep. I found myself staring up into the blinding light of the sun.

I blinked twice and allowed my senses to fill in the blanks. My head hurt like a son of a bitch. Sour garbage did in fact stink all around me, and a small horde of people had gathered to try and figure out why I was sleeping in the dumpster. I was trying to figure out why I was sleeping in a dumpster, but it was too hard to think with that truck honking and some hick farmer yelling about a hobo. He was standing in front of a truck with the meanest expression on his face, but I could have cared less about him or his damn hobo. All I cared about was… Well. Nothing.

I didn't know how long I'd been laying there, and I actually didn't care. After everything that had happened, and after everything I had done, I just didn't care. In fact, the only time I hadn't felt like I was already dead was when I heard that stupid horn. It had scared me out of my misery, and for a near second, I thought it had been a sign to keep fighting. The defibrillator to get my heart beating again, and to get me back on my feet. But like I said, that was only momentary. After the horn had stopped, and I had realized the only thing it had been signaling was for me to move, I let my body fall back amidst the sea of shiny, black plastic, let the sun burn my eyes, and prayed the putrid smell of garbage would knock me out. It did not, so I tried harder. I buried myself deeper in trash and pulled one of those bags over my head—slightly thankful it didn't rip, or leak, in the process.

As I sunk back into my stinky grave, I debated if it would be easier to die of hunger, dehydration, or sheer brokenness, but I guess it didn't really matter. I just wished the reaper would take pity calls. I hoped he got to me before the crows and gulls did. I really didn't want to have to change my mind about dying.

So, yeah, like I said in the very beginning, this really sucks. This really, really, really sucks. I was happy, or at least as happy as I could remember being in the longest time—and I blew it. My one chance at my normal, apple pie life. And now that you know my story, and how I lost that shot at happiness, I ask that you hold all questions for my funeral. They won't be answered—at least not by me, anyway. But at least I won't have to spend any more energy thinking about the royal screw-up that is, or was, Dean Winchester.

And for all of you thinking, "Hey, cheer up. It's not so bad," might I remind you of the three other lives I've royally fucked up? Well, in case you missed it, here is the recap: Because I had to tempt fate, Sam will never look at me again. Mariah, if she is even survives, will probably never sleep again, the Jeckle that she loved went Hyde on her ass and nearly killed her—only after derailing her life and dreams and everything she held sacred by abducting and technically killing her sister. And Kiers? Who even knows. She had to be dead by now.

So, yes, I deserve to rot here in this pile of garbage. My only regret is that I didn't hold on to my gun. Sure, demonic super-Dean didn't need a weapon to ruin and ultimately end lives, but I sure did. Why bother God, or whoever is in charge of running this shitty universe to knock me down yet another peg. As far as I could tell, I could go no lower: I was already dead. Or, at least, I would be if that fucking truck would shut up. It's hard to die with someone honking at you. Couldn't I just die in peace? Was that really too much to ask?

I decided the only way to retrieve my silence was to whip a bag of trash at him, so I sat up and heaved the bag that covered my head at the driver of the truck. A garbage truck. That made sense, I guess. And I guess it also made sense that I angered the man driving the truck, as I was interfering with his job. He started yelling and swearing as he got out of the truck and approached my stinky sanctuary. He yelled, and yelled. The hick farmer stormed off yelling about the cops.

With all the commotion, a bigger crowd began to gather, trying to see what all the noise was about. The honking, yelling garbage man—and me, the weird smelly guy in the dumpster heaving trash and dirty looks at the man who was just trying to do his job.

By this time, my head was really pounding, and the more I tried to tone everything out, the less I could successfully do so. I heaved one last bag at him then jumped down from the dark green receptacle and tried to walk away. That was when someone grabbed me, shoving me into the brick wall. Before I could react, or even comprehend what had happened, I saw the footnote. Tom. RonTom. Whatever his name was. You know, the bartender?

I laughed at the little punk, trying to corner "me" of all people. And for what? Causing a little commotion behind his joint?

"You have got to be kidding me, right?" I laughed, but the expression on his face stayed plain as day. It was surreal, really. Creepy. I knew he hated my guts, and there I was (pun totally intended) reeking havoc behind his bar, and the guy didn't so much as blink. Something in his eyes just didn't seem right. They were darker. Meaner. Evil. He was possessed.

My heart stopped and I felt a surge of fear wash over me as I realized what he was. I remembered my own evil, and the things I had done to people I was angry at. I thought for sure I was going to be gutted, not that I didn't deserve it, but whatever. Self preservation, right?

I swallowed hard and closed my eyes, wishing I had just left. Wishing I hadn't given up, and praying RonTom would just hurry up and kill me so I didn't have to suffer. But he didn't. I opened my eyes to see his had gone completely black.

"You aren't as lucky as you think, Dean, you still have a job to do." Tom sneered, somewhat disappointed "Find Sam, let him know you're ok, and leave. Try to take him with you and she'll kill you both. He's ours now, don't you even try to stop it." The Demonic Footnote's head tilted as he searched my eyes for my comprehension, then he shoved me to the ground. I took off. Even if he had vanished behind me.

I kept on running until I couldn't breathe, or even stand. Then I stopped to fill my lungs with air, and rest against a tree.

"Don't you even try to stop it" the words echoed in my head as I saw Meg's eyes gleaming. "Sam's mine." "You fool" "Idiot." "That's not part of the plan" "What did you do now?" "Welcome back. Do you remember the plan?"

I couldn't take it anymore. I was so sick of all these voices. Sick of the plan. Sick of me, sick of everything. I screamed, holding my head, and pulling at my hair. I screamed as loud as I could. Praying to God they'd all shut up. They did. The birds stopped chirping, and the other wildlife around me chose to flee. But the voices stopped, and the world was silent. A small gulp later, I realized where I was. It was here, not two weeks ago, that I stood, in this very spot, with Kiersa. On the way to Mill Hill. I was pretty sure it was here, anyway. It looked familiar enough. Yes, I was pretty sure this was where I had parked, and there, up ahead, was the path she'd taken me up. The small brook we'd crossed, and all those trees. It was this place, I was certain.

I remembered walking up the road, hating the girl I was following. I remembered the fear in my gut, as I wondered if I'd ever find Sam again. I remembered Kiers turning back every so often to make sure she hadn't lost me. She never knew that I'd been lost from the very beginning. I remembered the evil in me, and wondered if maybe she knew too. Maybe that was why she had been so nervous and hesitant to trust me. She'd been right all along. I kept walking until I saw the blood. Her blood, from when I hit her. She never saw it coming, and I didn't stop with a single blow, though it would have sufficed. No, I kept on hitting her because it felt good.

I shuddered at that memory and kept on walking, all the way up to the old blue house. I wondered if Mariah was still alive, and though it scared me more than anything to find out, I knew I had to. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and forced myself down those creaky wooden stairs.


	53. Chapter 53

There she was, hanging where the beast in me had left her.

I know it was selfish of me to feel, but I felt a heavy weight lifted from my chest the moment I saw her body tremble. She was broken, but still breathing.

At least she was alive.

Though, things might have been better off if she wasn't. Her suffering might have been over if her body had just given out, and with all the blood she'd lost it probably should have. By right she should have been dead days ago, but Darkness had put nature on hold, and now she was forced to live with the memories of what I'd done.

I couldn't tell if she was conscious or not; her head was down, and her dark red hair covered most of her face. Eyes closed. Motionless, except for the mild convulsions her body made from pure shock. Her skin was so pale it made me cringe. I felt physically ill just seeing her like that, but knowing I was responsible for it all?

Knowing that I had let that monster hurt her like this. Every cut. Every scar. Every fear she'd carry for the rest of her life was because of me. It didn't matter that I didn't have a choice; the only thing that mattered was the fact that she'd hate me when she opened her eyes and there wasn't a single thing I could do about that. I couldn't change her mind about me now.

As I reached for her bound hands, her eyes shot open in horror. A weak and fearful gasp escaped her lips as she tried to pull away from my gentle touch. She pulled back as far as her restraints, and the wall behind her, would allow. Her eyes begged me not to touch her again, so I pulled back.

"Get the hell away from me," She spat, as if her words alone could repel me. They certainly did. The venom in her voice burned hotter than the hatred in her eyes and I took another step back. Dropped my arms and planted my weight evenly on both feet as I thought out my next step. I needed to get her to a hospital, but that would be impossible with her current situation.

"Mariah." I gulped; my eyes begged her to see the change in me. She squinted, and for half a second, I would have sworn she did. But, like I said, it was only for half a second.

Before I'd realized what had hit me, my face had been shoved into the same concrete wall Mariah rested against. My lip split upon impact, and my chin felt scraped up pretty bad, but it hadn't been enough to knock me out.

I didn't know who had shoved me, and I didn't care. Instincts took over— fight or flight. In this case, fight. Had my brain not told my body to react as quickly as it did, I'd probably have died right then and there. But because I am who I am, I knew I didn't have time to scroll through my current enemy list to figure out who'd assaulted me.

My reaction had been instant. I'd shoved my elbow back at my attacker, and while I aimed the hit at her face, I soon realized I'd struck at his chest. That's when I realized it was Sam. He was too damn tall. Unfortunately, I couldn't whip around to confirm my theory; he'd already caught my arm, twisted it back, and used it to pin me to the wall-not that he hadn't pinned me down in the first place, this just made it all the more painful.

"Sam!" I breathed heavy. "Please tell me that's you!"

I felt his grip stall out, and I knew it was him. He didn't speak, but gave me another shove into the wall. I laughed, "Man, am I ever glad it's you." I sighed a bit relieved, but the feeling wasn't mutual. I could tell by his grip he wasn't in the mood to chat. This was confirmed by the way he flung me to the ground and shoved a gun in my face.

Something was different about him; I could feel it in the air. His face was stern and emotionless. He was ready to kill me.

My hands rose slowly to show him I'd surrendered, and I closed my eyes, "I deserve to die for the things I'd done." I licked my lips. "Just not now."

I sensed his head jerk sideways, confused, and the second his guard was down, I used my legs to kick him to the ground, then jumped as quickly as I could to pin him down. Had him on his stomach instantly, but it took a bit longer to wrestle the gun from his grasp. Had to smack his hand against the ground a few times, but it came free and when it did I tossed it aside.

"Sammy, it's me!" I breathed hard, hoping he'd calm down; he did, for about a minute.

"You don't think…" He panted with his struggle, "that whole trust me… thing is a little old by now?" After that he rammed his head back into my nose and in that same instant he somehow managed to sail his elbow across my face and flip me over. His body quickly rolled over mine and reached for the gun. Before I knew it, he'd rolled to his stomach and aimed the damn thing at me.

I had to laugh. Let myself relax into the concrete. I knew I couldn't convince him I wasn't evil anymore, and, ironically, it wasn't that long ago that I had wished for this. Death, I mean. Maybe my prayers had been answered.

We laid there a minute, in silence. I closed my eyes and smiled.

"I never found out." I sighed. Sam was still silent. "That Shakesbeer thing, about the lollypop."

"What?" He snapped at the absurdity of my last comment. It was so random he was offended. I laughed.

"I made a bucket list... In my head; that was on it. Along with seeing Paris Hilton naked. In person."

"What are you doing?" He asked suspiciously.

"Look," I shrugged, "if I can't kill you with the powers I don't have, and I can't convince you I'm me, you can at least have the decency to listen to my last wishes. And remember this is a judgment free zone. I'd like a dozen monkeys playing those… metal things at my funeral. You know, the things that look like trash can lids? They'd be live monkeys, of course, not fake ones, and they have to be wearing suits. I think that would liven things up a bit, don't you?"

"Is this a trick?" Sam snapped. My eyes looked up to see him standing above me. Apparently I'd been so busy anticipating the bullet, I'd completely tuned him out and hadn't noticed him stand. He studied me cautiously.

"Do I look like a magician?" I snarled, but before I could add to the joke, I shook my head. "I don't have time for this; either kill me or help me up."

He huffed a smile to his face, and closed his eyes in relief.

"But I swear, dude, if even think about hugging me, I will rip that gun from your hand and so shoot your ass."

No hug was necessary, apparently. He just leaned against the wall as if his life had been saved. His prayers answered. He almost looked about ready to cry. "I'm serious, you know I can take you." I added a cocky smile with that threat.

He just scoffed at me and turned to Mariah with soft eyes. She had a worried look on her face that seemed to fade with Sam's warm glance. "It's ok. We're going to get you out of here." He said, then reached for the rope to untie her. She stared at me the whole time; wouldn't take her eyes off me. Didn't trust me. I didn't blame her.

When Sam had gotten her free she leaned into his chest, but not once did I leave her sight.


	54. Chapter 54

It was a long and quiet hike through the woods.

I led the way since I knew it better than the other two. That's at least what I told myself to feel better. Truth was, nobody wanted me walking behind them—not Sam and certainly not Mariah. They wanted their eyes on me, even if they didn't say so.

That wasn't what bugged me, though. I mean that made sense, and it was really the least I could do to start earning back their trust. The only thing that bothered me was them not talking, and the feeling of their eyes burning holes in the back of my skull. I thought about whistling, but I had never been great with carrying a tune. It might have come off as a little insensitive, too. Humming might have been weird, so I just walked on, quietly, fidgeting inside my head as I wondered if I should be the one to say something.

I couldn't think of anything. 'Gee, sorry I almost killed you,' sounded horrible and 'so this is weird' was more than obvious. I wished I had my car. Shit. I wished I knew where my car was. I couldn't remember the last time I'd had it, and I knew better than to ask. If I had my car, though, we'd be there by now. Not to mention I could have at least blasted the radio. Would have made the whole awkward-silence a little more tolerable.

Once we'd made it to the main road, we tried flagging down a few cars. None stopped. Not surprising. Two guys and a walking-dead chick ripped straight from a horror flick? You'd be stupid to stop. Thankfully, though, someone had been smart enough to call the cops on us. We'd been walking for several minutes before we'd heard the yelp of the siren, warning us of the approaching squad car.

Its lights were flashing when we turned around and it pulled slowly over behind us. Sam and Mariah turned automatically, but I was more hesitant. As relieved as I was to quit walking, I would have preferred an ambulance.

It had only been about a year since I'd been the key suspect in Sam's friend's brother's girlfriend's murder (say that ten times fast.) Even though the State of Missouri had signed my official death certificate, it hadn't been more than five months ago that the Baltimore P.D. had issued an arrest warrant for the death defying Dean Winchester. Since then, I'd made it a point to keep a low profile, and for obvious reasons, getting into a police car with a girl I'd just slashed nearly to death didn't seem like the greatest move.

"Thank God," Sam blurted to the officer as he rose from his seat. "We need your help."

Though I could not see his eyes through his dark aviator lenses, I could tell that 'Officer Tracey' was staring solely at me. He must have sensed my guilt. "We were out hiking and we found her in the woods." I said with a gulp and a quick smile. Then I bit my tongue. Someone who'd just stumbled upon a person as mutilated as Mariah would not smile to ease the tension. A guilty person would smile uncomfortably to try and avoid suspicion. Crap.

"Hiking?" Tracey said, sizing me up. He scratched his chin while convicting me with his shaded eyes.

It went against my better judgment, but I approached the man, showing him I had no fear of being near him. That made him scratch his chin too.

"Well, don't just stand there," I gasped. "She clearly needs to get to a hospital."

That diversion seemed to work as the man's attention turned from me to Mariah.

"Miss. Are you all right?" He asked, tilting his head as he tried making eye contact with her. "Can you tell me what happened?"

She just shook her head and stared real hard down at the ground. "She's in shock." Sam said, then pretended to not know what he was talking about. "I think she's lost a lot of blood."

"Can you radio the hospital and tell them we're coming?" I added; the concern I actually had in my voice worked in my favor, as the officer seemed to let his guard down and focus on the task at hand.

"Of course," He said with a quick nod, "Get in."

Sam helped Mariah into the passenger's seat, while, again, my hesitance was detected. As Tracey reached in through his open window to grab his radio he kept his eyes on me, assuming I'd run for it and he'd get to shoot me. I guess the thought of running may have crossed my mind, but instead I smiled and with a deep gulp got into the back seat.

I was glad when the ride was over, and thankful that it had only taken about seven minutes. I couldn't wait to get out of that car. Especially after spending the entire time pretending I didn't notice Tracey pretending he wasn't observing Mariah staring at me through the rear view mirror.

I had my hand on the handle the second the car was placed in park. I was so anxious to escape that I'd forgotten about the safety lock on the door.

Tracey got out of the car, and Mariah sat there, catatonic, until he'd opened the door. Her body jumped a bit, but graciously took the hand that reached in to help her from the vehicle. The door slammed, and I felt my fate sealed. Panic overtook my face, but I tried to stay calm.

"Would you relax, already?" Sam laughed, "I know you're a fugitive and all, but could you make it a little less obvious? He's going to think you're the guilty one here."

I ignored Sam as I watched Tracey lead Mariah to the emergency entrance. He stopped short, bent down and looked her straight in the eyes. I could not hear him, but I could read his lips, as he spoke as slowly and as clearly as he could in hopes of relaying the urgency of the situation.

"I need to know." His eyes begged her for the truth and nodded towards us. "Are either of those guys your attacker?"

"You did that?" Sam concluded. I hadn't really heard him, though; he'd whispered in a stupor, and I was too busy staring at Mariah. Trying to figure out if she was going to rat me out. She looked back at the car, absently staring through it before looking back at Tracey and shaking her head. She must have said something, because his glance turned to pity.

"Dean!" Sam quietly snapped at me; I looked at him for a minute then turned away and closed my eyes.

"Tell me you didn't do that!" He whispered, angrily. Disbelievingly. I just shook my head.

"Well, were you possessed? Is Kiers possessed? I swear I saw Meg, is she back? What the hell is going on, here? Dean?" His voice pleaded for answers, but I had none. I sat in silence until a loud tap on Sam's window made us both jump.

Tracey just smiled in at us.


	55. Chapter 55

Before I knew it my heart had started racing. Between the tension inside the car with Sam figuring out I was Mariah's attacker, and the hypercritical cop outside the car, glaring in at us, I felt about ready to implode. I was seriously wishing I had the damn disappearing power, right about then, but I knew I was stuck with reality.

Tracey opened Sam's door and crossed his arms as he leaned against the back of his squad car. His suspicious stare stayed on me even as my brother stood and smiled humbly at him.

I took a deep breath as I slid across the back seat and nodded my head, as friendly as I could, as I exited the vehicle.

"You boys aren't from around here, are you?" Tracey asked, studying me carefully. His tongue traced a good number of his bottom teeth as he took off his dark glasses. I just shook my head.

"Actually, we're new. Just started renting a place over on Gully Lane." I said with a modest smile. "Great neighborhood. They love Elvis."

"Mhm." Tracey grumbled from the side of his mouth, clearly unimpressed with my response. He completely bypassed the small talk and got down to business. "Now listen, I'll be honest. I have half a mind to take you two in for questioning. 'Cept for the lady says it ain't you who attacked her. Just seems a bit shady. The two of you just hikin' in the area and you just so happen to stumble upon the next victim."

"Next victim?" Sam's eyes inquired with a curious passion. "Victim of what?"

Had Tracey not been so busy looking at me, I would have easily been off the hook. My brother's intense reaction seemed to scream 'serial killer' but the officer was too preoccupied to notice. His head turned to Sam, respectfully, for a half second but his eyes did not leave mine.

"That information is currently classified. Where'd you say you boys were from again?"

"Gully Lane." I said abruptly. "I'm sorry, I'm confused. Are we suspects or something?"

"You tell me." He said without a flinch. He had a look on his face that made me think he'd wait a lifetime to hear my response, but I let him have it much quicker than that.

"Look, pal, the only thing we're guilty of is saving that girl's life, so if you want to arrest us, you'd better have some sort of evidence and a damn good attorney."

Tracey seemed to back off after that. "Who said anything about an arrest?" He chuckled; his brows narrowed to see if I'd sweat out any more suspicion. I just shook my head again. "No, no. I just had a few questions. Perhaps you could come down to the station with me and write out a statement."

"Or you could just take one here," I said matter-of-factly. "I'd really like to know if she's going to be ok." I nodded towards the hospital entrance.

"What are your questions?" Sam asked hoping to break up the tension.

"First I need your names."

"I'm Burt. Burt Saxby" I said, "And this is my cousin, James Stock." I said hoping that he hadn't a clue about the 007 references. He seemed genuinely indifferent about our aliases.

"Hm, ok, Burt. James. What was the reason for your hike today?"

"Our neighbor, Mrs. Ellroy lost 'The King.' Her cat. She asked us if we could help look for him."

Sam's eyebrows shifted a fraction of a centimeter with my alibi. I could tell he was thinking 'are you serious?' but Tracey missed it all together.

"Ok, so you were looking for a feline when you came across the girl?" He sought confirmation with that stupid hick-accent of his.

"Yes sir." Sam nodded, choosing to play along with phony concern for the cat. "Do you think that you could make a note of that somewhere? It's an orange cat. Tabby."

"Three legs." I added, hoping Tracey didn't catch the more observable look Sam shot me in disbelief. I honestly wasn't surprised when he didn't.

"Where did you find her? The girl."

"In an abandoned building. We saw the bulkhead was open and thought the…" Sam fumbled with the cat's name. "..King had maybe gone inside there for the night. The girl was tied up in the basement."

"Did you notice anyone strange in the area? Anything odd?" Tracey grabbed his chin, glancing between Sam and I for any sort of reaction he could find.

"Besides the bloody girl tied up in the basement?" My brows rose, "No, that was pretty much the only thing I noticed."

"So there is nothing else you can tell me?" His eyes pried again, but I shook my head with regret.

"Sorry, I wish we could be more helpful." I said.

"That's ok. One last question. Do you happen to have any relatives in the immediate area? Someone that might look a lot like you?" He asked me awkwardly.

"Well, they say I have one of those faces, but no. Just me and my cousin." I laughed.

"And you said you were over on Gully Lane? By the apartments?"

"Number 147." I smiled, willingly handing over my address as a sign of good faith. Didn't matter much anymore. It wasn't like we'd be going back there. Ever. That was just another shattered dream.

"Ok. Thank you for your time." Tracey smirked smugly. Besides the feeling in his gut, he had no evidence to disprove our claims, and so he couldn't arrest us. I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized it was over.

"You're welcome, Officer. Are you sure there isn't anything else we can do to help?"

Tracey tilted his head, "Actually, there is." He glanced between Sam and me one last time then smiled. "Just don't leave town. We'll be in touch."

"Of course." Sam said as if it was the last thing to cross his mind; I shook my head affirming that notion, then turned from him with a deep huff and walked into the hospital.

I was beyond relieved to hear Tracey's car door slam shut and his engine start. It was like dodging a bullet. I walked as quickly, straightly, and as inconspicuously as I could through the sliding doors of the hospital, and I only relaxed once I was sure they had closed behind me.

And it wasn't a 'few beers on a Friday night after we'd just solved a case' type of relaxed. It was a 'hallelujah, that could have been a whole lot worse; glad it isn't' type relaxed. I already knew stopping Meg, or whatever Darkness was was going to be tough enough—and I wasn't prepared to go at it from behind bars. Getting arrested now would just about be the 'game over' of my life.

"Talk about lucky." I murmured to Sam, only to get the feeling Sam wasn't around me. I turned to see that I was right. He had stopped short, barely making it into the hospital. He was just standing in the entrance, staring at me. I could see that broken piece of him desperately trying to figure me out.

"Sam?" I questioned his pause, all the while knowing that I didn't want an answer. I wanted him to hurry it up, but instead I got an earful.

"I know you know what is going on here, Dean. I want answers."

Looking at him just about crushed me. I knew he wanted to trust me, but I could tell he wasn't going to budge until I'd given him some sort of information, but what was I supposed to say? 'I don't know what we are up against or how to stop it. Sorry'? None of that seemed worth saying, so I just sighed and walked away.

"Excuse me," I asked the nearest nurse. "I'm looking for Mariah."

"Is she a patient here? What is her last name?" She smiled, eager to help me out.

That eagerness was short-lived. I almost laughed as I added 'Mariah's last name' to the long list of things I did not know. I thought about it for as long as I could without appearing obviously clueless, then added, "She just came in a few minutes ago. She was hurt pretty bad. I just need to know if she is going to be ok."

"Oh." Her eyes seem to say 'shit' when she realized who I was talking about.  
"Are you a relative?"

"Me? No, no." I laughed, gingerly. "I'm …Detective Saxby with the AID PD" I said confidently ripping some letters off an informational brochure. I knew better than to assume this small town had its own police department, and since I wasn't too familiar with the surrounding towns, I knew I had a better chance of making something entirely. It was much easier than trying to remember which towns had actual police departments, not that I even knew that.

"I.D.?" She questioned, confused.

"No, AID." I corrected, backtracking in my brain for something AID could stand for. "Uh, Androscoggin Independent Department" I'd just about cursed under my breath when she interrupted.

"No. Could I see some ID?"

"Oh," I laughed. It was good that she bought the AID because Androscoggin Independent Department Police Department would have surely clued her in on my fraud. "Of course," I grabbed at my shirt instinctively only to realize I hadn't been wearing my jacket. My smile did not fade until after I'd patted down my jean pockets, front and back. No wallet. No phone. No anything.

My smile grew wider in an effort to conceal my embarrassment, "Uh.. Could you excuse me for a second? I seem to have left my credentials in my car."

I didn't wait for a response or so much as a reaction from the girl; I just turned and left as fast as I could, cursing under my breath because I still had nothing. I didn't know if Mariah was going to be ok. I didn't know where my car was. I didn't have my phone. I didn't know how to stop Darkness, or how to save Kiersa. I just knew that I wanted to shoot something really, really bad, which would have been ok had I actually known where my damn gun was. But I had nothing. Absolute zilch.

Brushed right past Sam, ignoring the hopeful light that lit his eyes when he saw me. I had hoped that my apparent bad mood would have shut him up, because I was in no mood for chatting.

"How is she?" He asked anyway, eyes narrowing when I flew right by him. It was a good thing those automatic doors opened when they did, because otherwise I would have blown right through the glass. You would think that would have been enough for Sam to realize he needed to back off, but Sam was Sam and he still persisted.

"Dean?" my name was called several times, and each time I heard it his voice became more and more frustrated.

"I don't know!" I snapped after the third and most angry sounding 'Dean.'

"I wish I knew, Sam. I really do, but I JUST DON'T KNOW! I got nothing!" Then I turned to him, clearly pissed. "I don't know how she is because I don't even know her last name, and I don't exactly have a fake ID on hand because they are all in my car—which is God knows where along with my phone and gun. I have no idea what we are up against, here, because I can't even remember half of what's happened since we've been in this damn town. And I'm just hoping that whatever it is doesn't attack us because we are ROYALLY screwed."

He scoffed under his breath and said, "Guns won't work," with an ironic smile.

I only half-heard him, so I snapped "What?"

"Guns don't work on it… Or don't you remember?" His brows rose as if that was supposed to clue me in or something. They dropped again when it was evident that I didn't remember.

"Remember what?"

"I shot…" He paused and shook his head, "Never mind. Guns don't work."

"Good to know." I said, trying to figure out what I'd missed or what he'd shot; I figured it was irrelevant.


	56. Chapter 56

We started walking again, side by side. I liked the silence this time around. It meant that Sam had finally caught on and was going to leave me be.

Our destination was another thing I had added to my 'do not know' list. I guess I just planned on walking around the entire town, street by street, until I found my car. Might not have been the best plan, but there wasn't much else to do except think. And since thinking was the last thing I wanted to do, I tried to just do the walking part.

But thinking quickly got the better of Sam, because once he got to thinking he started talking again. Asking questions. I tried being patient with him, because I'd already gone off on him once, but he made it so hard.

"I don't get it." He said squinting his eyes as if he was confused. "You don't remember anything?"

"Nope." I shrugged, trying hard not to think about it. I did remember a few things, but they were the obvious things—the things I wanted to forget the most. My life sucked, and because of it other people's lives now sucked, and I woke up in a dumpster. Didn't really want to dig much deeper than that.

"I mean, seriously. Think, Dean. You have to remember something-anything!" Sam begged me, but I just shot out the first thing that came to mind. It was half a joke to shut him up, and half serious because I really did remember it.

"Whiskey hangover!" I yelled out, annoyed; I definitely remembered the feel of a whiskey hangover. That night at the bar, with Kiers, I'd gotten pretty wasted. Which, while I was thinking of it never really made sense. I'd been drinking beer, and a little rum with my nurples. How had I gotten so drunk?

When Sam didn't reply, I turned to see that the hope he'd had on his face had faded. He'd actually stopped walking and started shaking his head; then he just turned to walk away.

That set me off. "Sam!" I hollered after him, "Sammy! Wait, I swear that's all I remember!" but he just turned and gave it to me. I guess I did deserve it.

"A whiskey hangover?" He turned to me with utter disgust. "That's…" He stopped to laugh and shake his head. "Thank you for that great revelation! You got drunk."

"Sam! That's the thing. I didn't drink whiskey, I drank Nur…beer!"

"Nurbeer?" His head tilted a bit to figure out what I was trying to say, but I realized the beverage was irrelevant so I gave up.

"Neverm-Wait!" I said as a few other memories flashed through my mind. They popped in and out so quick they were hard to follow, but I was starting to remember things. Important things.

"Dean?" Sam whined at me but I silenced him with a flick of my wrist.

"Hold on," I squeezed my eyes shut and thought back to the night club. I'm pretty sure Sam kept on tearing me a new one, but I couldn't hear him. I wasn't even with him anymore—I was there—back at the club. It all played out in my head like a movie.

_"Spent some time in Indiana, Oklahoma, and good'ol Kansas.' I had told Kiers with a distant smile, and just like that Tom smashed our drinks down in front of us. "Hey, easy on the stemware, huh? Don't want to mess up your other hand."_

_I remembered the whole exchange had been odd, but I hadn't thought twice about it until now. Now that I remembered the look in Tom's eyes outside that dumpster; it was the same evil look he'd given me that night. And as I found myself standing on that stage, singing my stupid song, I saw Meg in the sea of faces. Fingers strumming over her pendant. Staring me down like a hungry wolf. I should have seen it then. I should have known those dark eyes. How could I have missed those eyes?_

_Things seemed to freeze amongst the crowd as I stood there. The words to my song echoed loudly in my head. Again, I saw that darkness in Tom's eyes as he tore open the bandage on his hand and stuck his thumbnail into his open wound. He then squeezed his fist, dripping blood into a small shot glass. My shot glass. His blood. He'd been lacing my purple nurple with his evil, and there, the whole time, had been Meg's bloody knife resting on the counter. _

_I remembered the fight with Kiers about my car, and everything I had confided in her about my life and brother. It was almost like I knew all this was going to happen. Then came that magical, smiley moment my drunk and delusional self thought Sam and Kiers had shared. "He must have had one too many," She smiled, uncomfortably towards my brother. "He just… changed. All of a sudden; it was weird. Picked a fight with a mop named Meg." She laughed as awkwardly as Sam did. Then asked him if he was going to be ok._

_I saw the nightmares I had that night, about Meg taunting me. Burning and breaking me. Telling me she needed my word, and torturing me to get it. It was all real, except she didn't need my consent. I was as mortal as Tom was, and I didn't stand a chance against her disease. She just snuck in to finish the job and have a bit of fun. __She must have cloaked herself somehow so that Sam couldn't see her. That was why he heard me screaming about demons and burning down the motel room. _

_Everything sped up after that. I could feel the evil marinating inside me from the second I left the bar. The human in me started to die that night and all the stupid little fights with Sam started to make sense. My disdain for him and Kiersa too... It all made sense. That was the monster in me overriding my bones like a hacker. Little by little the things I cared about and the person I was faded away until I woke up in that black pit of nothingness._

_"Do you remember?" Those dead fingers curled up my spine "Do you remember the plan?"_

_Pater Nex._

_It was the plan to turn Sam. Probably the same thing Dad has tried warning me about was the plan I'd prematurely set in motion after losing my cool. Mariah had just hung up on me, after saying she didn't want to see me anymore. Breaking my heart, right as Sam walked in with lunch. I had faked an entire conversation with her just to prove Sam had been wrong about us not being "dating material."_

_In retrospect, my reaction had been over the top. I remembered feeling like he had been mocking me, but really that had been all in my head. He hadn't done anything to deserve the hell that I'd unleashed on him. He'd been curious and asking questions. The last thing he'd asked me was "What did they say?"_

_"Sammy's gone. He's gone, and I need your help". I found myself on Kiers' doorstep. Yeah, Sam was gone, but only because I'd clocked him from behind and dragged him off to the cave. Same as I'd done with Kiersa once I had gotten her alone in the woods. I could still remember the smile on my face the second I turned on them and the joyous sounds of their bodies hitting the ground. The rush of pure adrenaline pumping through my veins. I remembered lurking in the dark and dreaming about their deaths; about tearing them open like Christmas presents. I didn't need a stupid knife, I wanted to use my bare hands. I wanted to sculpt their entrails and paint with their blood. I wanted to make them scream._

"Dean. You with me?" Sam asked and I was suddenly back on the side of the road. His right hand held my face, and his eyes stared me over as if a part of me had disappeared before his very eyes. All I could do was breath. Breath and shudder.

"Yeah. Yeah. I'm with you" I blinked and shook myself free from his grip. "Man, am I going to need some therapy after this one."

Though I'd been serious, he laughed and relaxed a bit with my last joke, then softened his tone. I'd already forgotten how angry he had been just minutes before my flashback and so had he.

"What was that?" He asked with a tinge of concern in his eyes.

I covered my face, hoping to stop the bile from rising from my gut. "Everything... Everything. I remember everything."

"That's great." He seemed relieved. "So what is it? How do we stop it?"

My lack of response alarmed us both and I saw the hope begin to fade in his eyes.

"I can't tell you what this thing is, and I don't know how to stop it. But I can tell you what was inside of me." I said looking away from him. It was hard to admit it, but I knew exactly what it had been.

"A demon?" He said confused. It was so obvious to him he never saw the truth coming.

"Nothing." I said blankly. I started to walk again after that. Standing around was useless. I needed to be moving, or I was going to lose it.

"Nothing?" He laughed, confused. He chased after me, but I didn't slow down.

"That's what I said." I said angrily shaking my head "There wasn't a monster inside of me, Sam. There just wasn't a soul. Ever since that night with Kiers. Bar tender slipped it into my drink." I sighed and shook my head again. I should have seen it before.

Sam bit his lip, unsure of if he was buying my story. Then he just laughed. "And stole your soul? Listen to what you're saying."

"I don't know how else to explain it, Sam. I was me, but I was mean. I didn't care who I hurt, or what I did, I just wanted to kill things."

"But you didn't. You couldn't kill me. Or Kiers, or Mariah."

"I was following orders. That thing. Meg, or whatever it is has a plan."

"Plan for what?" He snapped, grabbing my arm and turning me to face him. I could see the fear in his eyes as he wondered what plan could possibly include not killing him, but I couldn't say it. Not because I couldn't remember, but because I couldn't tell Sam. How could I tell him that?

"She isn't here to kill people. She's here to turn them." I assured him. "Half the friggin town is already affected— if not more."

I saw the alarm subside in his eyes as he realized this had nothing to do with his so-called evil destiny. "Well how do we fix it? I mean whatever it is, it can be undone. You're proof of that. How did you escape? Or break it?"

"I screwed up, that's how. It let me go. Dropped me like a hot potato. I was useless to her."

"That doesn't make sense. Why let you go?" He asked, and I could see in his eyes that he was on to my lie.

"I can't answer that. Truth is I don't know I just, wait." As I had been thinking about how and why I was back I remembered something else. The knife. It was always the knife. She'd used it on Sam, and Mariah, and that was how we'd changed Kiersa. She used it on me several times over, turning me off and on like a light switch. Good one minute and evil the next. It had to be the knife.

"After I pulled you from the cave, and we went after Kiers, she turned me. In the car."

"You said she turned you at the bar?" Sam squinted, trying to get my story straight.

"She did, but it was off. She's got this knife, that's how she changed Kiersa. I think that is how she does it." It clicked in my brain so easily, I laughed with delight.

"So... what? We get this knife and we can change Kiers back?" Sam asked confused. "Are you sure?"

"What?" I snapped at him.

"Well, listen to what you're saying. We don't know what this thing is, or.. or, or… how to hurt it, and you want to go steal it's knife that may or may not reverse whatever the hell it is that happened? It sounds a little crazy. We should call Bobby. I think my cell phone is back at the apartment. Maybe that's where your car is?"

"Maybe." I said, knowing he was wrong. Not about the car, but about everything else. I knew the knife would work, and that it was a good idea. My gut also told me that calling Bobby was a waste of time, but I went along with it anyway. If it got Sam to shut up and stop asking questions, it was a good enough plan for me. Maybe I could slip away and get the knife myself. And, besides, the further I kept Sam from Darkness the better.


	57. Chapter 57

We made it back to the apartment a little before three.

An eerie feeling took hold of me as I entered. The same sort of numb feeling I normally felt when entering the scene of a slaughter. Though there was no blood, or bodies, or sign of struggle to be seen, death was all around me, in the form of shattered dreams and remorse. Had I really been so foolish as to think Sam and I could just hit the 'pause' button on life and live out the rest of our days in this stupid place pretending to be ordinary?

I was an idiot.

That was irrelevant, though. What was relevant was the fact my car wasn't there which meant our weapons weren't either. Which, I guess technically didn't matter since Sam was sure our guns would be useless anyway. Still, without my car we were back to square one. I think we were actually under square one, or before it, because if we were actually on square one we might have had some direction. Instead we had jack squat.

The only thing we seemed to have gained by returning to the apartment, was Sam's phone, which really wasn't a game changer. Apparently, though, it had been on the charger when I'd attacked him, so that was convenient. I could at least call the hospital and check on Mariah after Sam tried Bobby.

Both were dead ends.

Mariah had checked herself out of the hospital, and Bobby? Well, we weren't entirely sure about him. He isn't one to 'not answer' his phone, and on those rare occasions when he is actually busy, he has been known to call back typically within five minutes to at least inform us of our stupidity. After fifteen Sam was worried. I didn't give it much thought, though. He was probably out on some case, where he was better off. I knew there wasn't a thing anyone, Bobby included, could do to help us.

I didn't waste any time thinking about Bobby, or Mariah, or anything but that knife. Guns wouldn't work. But that knife had been what turned me, and Kiers. I was willing to bet that was how she turned Tom and all the others, too. But I seemed to remember when…

A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. I looked instantly to Sam with an elevated concern in my eyes. I saw that same uncertainty reflected in his own. Who would be here? Now?

We both skimmed the place for anything we could use as a weapon, and settled upon a pair of scissors I noticed on the half-wall between our kitchen and current placement in the living room. I shrugged as I grabbed them, and so did he, because we both knew it was the best we had. Then I hid them behind my back as Sam went to the door.

"Can I help you?" Sam asked, as though he didn't recognize the person standing there. And he shouldn't have recognized him because the two of them had never met. It was my landlord. Ron? No. Jake. Tom. Roger. Blake?

"Yeah, you can." He replied rather irked.

"Oh, hi. …You…" I said chummily, but for the life of me I could not remember his name. I pinched my lower lip between my fingers as I tried to think back to when I'd signed the lease. "Sam this is…. That guy I was telling you about. Our landlord." I smiled a big and phony smile, which made Sam lower his defenses. "What can we do for you today, Sir?" I continued smiling through my teeth, but that did not change the man's angry demeanor.

"I asked you not to block in my car, can you move before I'm late for my appointment." He instructed more than he asked. I just scoffed.

"Blocking you in? With what, my imaginary car?" I said with a snap. "What kind of sick joke is that?" My smile dropped, and I had half a mind to stab him with my scissors anyway. This guy had to be completely evil if he was going to rub in the fact my car was missing.

"Uh, Dean?" Sam smirked a bit, nervously, but I could have cared less about his etiquette at that point. Landlord or not, I was pissed.

"Has he lost his marbles?" The landlord turned to Sam with a raised brow. That's when I really lost it. It's so annoying when people talk about you like you're not standing two feet in front of them. And to imply I was crazy? I shook my head angrily and stormed past the two of them.

"If my car was blocking yours in I would…. Thank God!" My tune quickly changed when I noticed my baby, quite indeed blocking in my landlord. It didn't matter how or why, at that point, the only thing that mattered was that she was home.

"Holy Knight Rider." I eventually mumbled, when I finally began to wonder the details of my car's mysterious return. I rushed to her side, and quickly inspected her for any sign of injury or trauma as I tried figuring out where she'd come from. It was all too surreal. The only thing off was that the engine was still running. I turned to Sam to be sure my eyes weren't fooling me.

He was not as relieved as I was, so I knew it wasn't a dream.

"Tick tock." My landlord tapped his watch, rudely interrupting our reunion. He clearly did not see sentiment I had for my car, or he just didn't care. But how could he understand when all he drove was a busted up, old Ford? I sighed and opened the car door.

The keys weren't there. My car had been violated. I felt like I had been violated. I was sure someone was going to die for messing with my car, I just didn't know who yet. Checked under the wheel to confirm she'd been hotwired. I grumbled as I got in and I put her in reverse and backed up to the street to let my tempered future-ex landlord out. Then I waited for him to leave so I could return to the graveled driveway.

As I sat there, parked in the street, waiting for that poor excuse of a vehicle to pull out, an interesting notion crossed my mind: I could just drive away. I should just drive away. Right here and now, leaving Sam behind.

He was standing on the grass, waiting for me and would never see it coming. He'd never catch up. He'd hate me, but he'd be safe.

In the grand scheme of things, me ditching him now would be just another bump in the road that was our relationship. He'd get over it and that was something I could live with, assuming of course I lived. Going after Darkness alone could very well be the end of me, but going after her with Sam would probably be the end of him. And I couldn't shake Dad's words from my head—him telling me I'd have to kill Sammy. No. Going alone was the best option. Taking Sam along was far too risky.

My mind was already made up.

I had the car in drive, hands on the wheel, and I smiled one last time in Sam's direction. That made his eyes narrow. I looked to my rearview mirror, to make sure no cars were approaching, then I looked over my shoulder, but paused. My head flew back to the mirror, and I squinted. I could see the shape of a person maybe forty yards out, walking away.

Maybe it was nothing, but it sure felt like something. I felt a sharp pull in my stomach, telling me that the person I saw was relevant somehow. I squinted a bit more, as if that would help me recognize the figure. Then I did the most stupid thing I may have ever done. I got out of the car and hollered. "HEY!"

I could see the person look back towards me and keep walking, so I ran, ignoring Sam as he questioned me.

Didn't think about the fact I had my car right there, ready for a chase, I just ran. As if my feet could have carried me faster than the car. I ran as fast as I could until I realized who I was chasing. I slowed a bit, but kept on her tail.

"Mariah!" I hollered, "Mariah... Just wait!" I begged. I heard her sigh as I approached.

"Did you hotwire my car?" I asked rather nicely as I tried catching my breath. I guess after almost killing her, I couldn't be mad about the car thing. I mean, I was pissed about the car thing, but I knew she wouldn't talk to me if she knew I was upset.

"I figured if you had your car you could leave." She said, coldly. She turned to me, and though her eyes landed on mine, I could tell she wasn't looking at me. She seemed out of it, like a part of her wanted to run from me, but something was holding her back. Something was making her stay.

There were so many things I wanted to say, but I couldn't form the words. Instead I just said, "It's not that simple."

"Did you really kill my sister?" Her eyes became harsh. It took me a minute to figure out what she was talking about; then I remembered the Ferris Wheel. I had said that Kiers was gone and never coming back, and I could see the fear in Mariah's eyes as she prayed my story was untrue.

Of all the things I had expected her to say, that hadn't been one I'd considered. I could see all the pain I'd caused her bubbling to the surface, and I just wanted to curl up under a rock somewhere and die. How could I answer that?

"I don't know." Was all I could say. Truth was, I didn't know how to answer that because in a sense, I could have killed Kiersa. I turned her, and though she was still breathing, a part of her had died. And if she were to die, that would still be on me. So, yes I'd killed a part of her, and yes if she died it would have been because of me.

Her eyes tried to figure me out, and I could see how much it hurt her to do so.

"Well, where is she? Tied up in a basement somewhere?"

I shook my head, which only made matters worse. She laughed, confused as all heck, and then her eyes grew angry. "I mean, how do you not know if you killed somebody? Is she dead?"

I could tell another 'I don't know' would have pushed her over the edge, so I did my best to avoid the non-answers. "I don't… Think so. Look, my brother and I, this is what we do. We hunt monsters, and we…"

I stopped myself there. I couldn't say it. How could I tell her we 'save people' when so clearly that was not the case. "We're not leaving until we stop the thing that hurt her, and fix this."

"Stop what? What thing?" She studied me carefully, as if I was making this all up. "Where is Kiersa?"

"I wish I could answer those questions for you, but I don't know the answers."

"Then what do you know." She demanded, crossing her arms.

"I know that your sister is a good person. Brave. And if there is anyway to save her, we will find it."

She shook her head angrily as I spoke, as if what I was telling her was bullshit. "Save her from what?"

"Mariah, the person that attacked you… I was different. You have to know that the things I did were things I would never do to anyone. Ever. But, there is something in this town changing people."

"What does this have to do with my sister?" Her eyes questioned fearfully.

"Kiers made a deal with it. She's changed too."

Mariah laughed. Her eyes turned away from me as if someone had been standing behind me, and I felt my heart drop. My gut drop. My entire body drop. I felt like I'd been hit by a train, because I knew that was the feeling Sam was going to have when he found out about Kiers' deal. I just prayed someone else was standing behind me.

"Do expect people to actually buy this crap?" She asked, and I turned to see my brother standing with the same curious eyes Mariah had on.

"Deal?" Sam shook his head, confused. "What deal?"

"Doesn't matter." I dropped the subject, but I should have known better than to think I could weasel out of this one. I should have known his mind had flashed back to the cave where he and Kiers had nearly kissed. She was fine one minute, and comatose the next and that had never really made sense to him.

"Dean. What deal?" Sam's eyes grew hard, as if he already knew the answer. I looked back to Mariah, but her stare wasn't any easier.

"She…" I lost my wind, "She made a deal to protect you, Sam."

"What do you mean? What deal?" His voice broke a bit despite his best efforts to keep up his manly demeanor.

If I had been any wiser, I would have caught myself. I would have remembered the last conversation Sam and Kiers had—the conversation I'd eavesdropped on before abducting him. I would have made some crap up about her going to Darkness for a deal. I guess the tension got the best of me, though, and I spilled beans I instantly regretted spilling.

"Kiers turned to save you." I looked to Sam, and saw him shatter. What I'd said struck a really big nerve. The doubt disappeared from his face. Everything disappeared from his face, and he studied me as carefully as Tracey had, tilting his head ever so slightly as he did. He didn't want to believe it though.

His heart tried processing what his ears had just heard, rewinding, replaying, all the while trying to fathom the idea.

"You don't know that." He shook his head.

"Turned? What does that mean? Turned? Turned to what?" Mariah snapped, trying to get back in on our conversation. But I couldn't deal with her right now. I had to figure out how to insert my foot into my mouth before I did any more damage.

"You don't know that." He repeated, shaking his head several thousand times, disbelievingly, and then his eyes grew angry. As if I'd lied to him. "How would you know that?"

The question had not been a rhetorical one. "DEAN." The intensity in those eyes rose a few thousand levels, to the point I thought they'd simply pop, and I knew I had to tell him, "I offered her the choice, Sam."

"What choice?" He snapped.

"Dying or dying a hero." I looked to the ground. I could smell that night's air around me, full of fear. And remembered all the joys I'd had in torturing her. Made me sick.

"You mean dying or turning? She didn't do this to save me, she did this to stay alive." Sam rationalized because it hurt less. I should have let him keep on thinking that, but at this point it was Kiers' character on the line. It just didn't sit right with me, watching her sacrifice get written off as a cowardly avoidance of death.

"The deal was catch-22, yeah. But she had a chance to run, and she couldn't leave you, Sam."

Well, I'm sure that by now I've mentioned my brother's renowned puppy-dog face. Tends to break hearts, if you know what I mean, but there is this other face he makes, and I've only ever seen it on three occasions. The last was when he'd come to the realization that he would have to kill Madison—the werewolf chick. The other two times had been closer together; when our dad died, and right before that when I was a ghost watching myself die. (Long story). Anyway, I guess the proper term for this face would be jello-eyes. Because, if you picture a person's eyes filling up with tears—wild, wiggly, pools of jello tears—you can understand this expression.

"No." He snapped, something in his heart still refused to believe it.

"She turned to save you, Sam." I said it and saw the world fall down around him.

He laughed a little, scoffed actually, as it wasn't really a laugh and something seemed to die in his eyes. I'd never seen him change like that, not in all the years I'd known him. He just… broke. And with a firm sniffle, and a wipe of his nose on his sleeve, he turned and charged back to the car.

"Sam!" I hollered after him, but he did not stop. He stormed right up to the car, opened the driver side door and reached in to pop the trunk. There was a madness in his eyes that kept me from speaking again. I knew he had the floor. He went back to the trunk and pulled out his shot gun, then looked up at me with those crazed eyes.

"This ends here."

"Sam, you just gave me Goosebumps." I joked, trying to get a smile to crack his angry stare. Also thought about throwing in a joke about him growing up. You know, all that manly right-of-passage crap, but I could tell by his posture that he didn't have time for my humor. He didn't even smirk. He was going to march right into that cave and blow Meg's brains out without so much as even a flinch.

"Ok, hold on. What's your plan? Do you even have one?" I asked, stepping between him and the driver's seat. "Or you just going to go in and shoot the place up?"

"I distract it, you get the knife. It dies. Let's go." He said simply enough.

"Here's a better idea. I'll distract it, you get the knife." I said.

I'd already established that Sam confronting Darkness was the last thing I wanted. It just screamed 'huge mistake,' and I knew I couldn't let him near her.

"What's the difference?" He half-shook his head, without a hint of emotion.

I had to lick my lips and think quickly. It was clear to me that he still hadn't a clue what this thing was after, and I knew I had to keep it that way. If he ever knew that all this had been because of him—more so than he already did—if he knew that Darkness had been after him this whole time? Well that little piece of him that had died right in front of me would stay dead. I just knew it.

"I need to get some things off my chest." I laughed, hoping that would be a good enough excuse to let me do the confronting.

"And you think I don't?" He seemed offended. He almost lost it when he said that, but he managed to hold it together long enough for my reply.

"Come on, Sam. I was just hell's bitch for over two weeks, ok? I did things that I can't fathom. Damn it, I could have killed you. I almost killed her. And Kiers? That's all on me, man." I looked back to Mariah who had caught up with us and was just trying her darndest to process all that had just happened.

"Don't fight me on this, Please?" I begged him.

With a sorrowful glance he handed me the gun and I moved away from the car door. Then a puzzling thought crossed my mind. "I thought you said guns couldn't kill it?" I questioned confused and he just looked at me, pissed off, before getting into the car.

"They can't. But they can still hurt it. Now let's go."

I got into the passenger's seat. Mariah, uneasily, hopped in the back, and just like that we were off. 


	58. Chapter 58

I couldn't help but laugh quietly to myself.

It hadn't been more than two hours ago when I'd been walking out of the woods with Sam, and a very bloody Mariah, thinking, 'Gee, this couldn't be more awkward; wish I had my car.'

Well, wish granted and here I sat in the passenger's seat with things, ironically, more awkward than before. Sam was on the verge of a mental break down, and Mariah who was still visibly traumatized (though stitched and cleaned up) was sitting speechless in the back seat— oh yeah, and we were all heading to our gruesome, untimely deaths.

I just couldn't shake this horrible feeling I had deep down in the pit of my stomach. Whether it was intuition, or just common sense, I knew it was going to be impossible to keep all three of us safe, and I was kicking myself for not ditching Sam earlier when I'd had the chance.

I should have just listened to my gut. Looking in that mirror and chasing down Mariah had been a horrible mistake, even if it had felt right in the moment. Now she, or Sam were in serious danger, and there was nothing I could do about it. What was done was done, though, and there was no turning back now. I knew Sam wouldn't back down, and if Mariah was anything like Kiers, she wouldn't either. They were both going to follow me and we were all going to die.

I hated thinking like that. There had to be another way. My mind was racing, quickly overloading with strategies and fear. It was a wonder I could think straight at all. I tried to just focus on the endless trees outside my window and the wishful thinking inside my heart. But deep down, I knew it was useless. My gut told me someone was going to die today, and I couldn't shake that feeling to save my life.

I don't remember what time we got there, but I remember that I made Mariah wait in the car. It was a crappy, last-minute plan that she wasn't too happy with, but she didn't fight it either. She just licked her lips and said she'd give us twenty minutes.

It took maybe five for me and Sam to hike to the cave's entrance. I also knew it would take him about that long to get to the right chambers, so I gave him a head start and after three minutes, I started my diversion with a grin.

I hollered into the cave's entrance as loud as I could:

"Hey, Honey, I'm home! Miss me? BITCH!"

I then proceeded to shoot a couple of rounds of salt up into the rocks.

In no time at all, I felt a familiar clamp around my neck; I knew exactly what it was and smirked with uncomfortable, yet satisfied, delight.

"Why did you come back? I thought I was clear." Her narrow eyes questioned my unexpected appearance. She gave me enough leeway to murmur out a reply.

"Yeaboutthat." I breathed strenuously, desperate for air. She gave me a little more oxygen. After a few deep breaths, I answered her with a chuckle. "When you said 'leave town and never look back' I wasn't sure if you meant for good, or just for the night. Thought I'd stop by and get that cleared up, before heading out."

Knowing I was up to something, she smirked an evil little smirk and tilted her head in my direction. "If I didn't know you better, Dean, I'd think you were trying to divert my attention from something."

I scoffed as if she'd been furthest from the truth. "And why would I do that?" I smiled, ear to ear, like she was crazy. She was crazy, and she proved this by what she did next. She held out her hand to me, as if to show me something, and within seconds her blade faded into her palm.

'Mindreading bitch,' I snorted to myself; this thought made her chuckle, and as she laughed, I, without thinking a single thought, shot four rounds right through her skin. As Sam had predicted, it did not hurt her; it did not even faze her. I think they actually went right through her skin.

"Oh, Dean." Her voice rang with disappointment. "Weren't you the one who buried this sad little corpse? Did you really think bullets were going to hurt me?"

The amused look on her face made my heart skip a beat. Or two. I'm not really sure, because I hadn't counted on the fact Darkness was incorporeal. I gulped. It didn't make sense. I had never been incorporeal, and I knew for a fact she'd touched me. I remembered the feel of her dead fingers and her cold flesh. But I also remembered trying to find her life source when I'd tried killing her with the knife. She hadn't had one. Maybe that was why.

"I am curious," She sighed, and her hungry eyes pried mine. They grew dark as she clenched the dagger's handle in her fist and turned it slightly, "just exactly what are you going to do when you get this?"

"Well I do here they're going for a pretty penny on eBay, but why would I want that thing?" I exhaled deeply, hoping to conceal my true motives. I thought about anything but my plan—lollypops, weather, movies, sex, the monkeys that would be playing at my funeral—but Darkness just smirked.

The black in her eyes deepened. "You tell me, Dean. Your bullets just split me like the Red Sea, do you really think this blade will do a better job?" She questioned inquisitively, and without warning, released her grasp on the knife. Her hand rose a bit and her smile grew an inch wider. With one, short wave the weapon landed by my feet.

I took my second gulp and half shook my head, double-taking the whole situation. I had to look down to see if it was a trick or not, but there it was. Her knife just inches from my grasp. For some reason, I felt the need to keep my useless gun on her as I bent to pick it up and slid it in my back pocket.

"What'd you do that for?" I questioned with sly eyes. She just shrugged it off as if she'd sent me another breath of air.

"I don't need it anymore." She smiled, proudly, and an eerie chill rose from my feet. I felt it settle in my ribs as an orange blaze appeared in her eyes. Her fingers traced up her left arm and settled upon her necklace. "I've got a new weapon. And I think you'll like it. She's fun." The fire in her eyes intensified before dancing to my right. I glanced quickly over my shoulder to see what she'd been hinting at and my jaw just about dropped when I saw.

It. Her. Kiers.

It was Kiers, or at least it had been at some point, but the Kiers I knew was long gone. As much as I despised her, I felt a pang in my heart just in seeing her that way. Her eyes and hair were a dark, dark black. So dark that you could see black wasn't their true color. There was almost a tint of raven-purple in them. Her skin was so pale and sickly she looked as though she was already dead. Like the life had been sucked from her body.

I remembered her being different at out last encounter, but this took my breath away. I tried calling her name softly, but it got caught in my throat. I couldn't get past the initial K-sound without crumbling on the inside. What I did manage to spit it out didn't cause her to so much as flinch.

"He's got the knife." Darkness intervened, almost with compassion in her voice. "He is going to kill Sam. Just like he murdered your sister."

My insides scoffed with that lie, but I couldn't bring myself to object. I couldn't get air in my lungs. Before I knew it, Kiers' arm had lifted, effortlessly, and sent me flying backwards. My body bounced off a tree behind me. Probably oak, not that it mattered. But it took quite a bit of effort to stand, and when I was able to shake off the daze, I looked up to see that my shotgun was aiming straight at me—held by nothing but air and Kiers' mystical grasp.

I cursed again under my breath as it loaded, then ducked from the first shot and scurried for cover as she used her powers to shoot out every pellet of salt I had loaded. Got hit in the arm at least twice before I managed to take cover behind the giant boulders in front of the cave.

As I tried catching my breath, I could hear Meg's arrogant laughs from the cave's entrance. I wondered if there was any way to climb over the boulders and rip out her lungs, so I wouldn't have to listen to amusement. But before I could figure out the impossibility of that plan, her laughter suddenly stopped.

I heard my shotgun hit the ground— which was the only reason I felt safe enough to peer out in the first place. Kiers' back was to me, and she was locked on to Meg now. Her hand shot up again and I could see all the tension it brought to her small body—as if all the energy she possessed was channeled through her one arm. A pool of light encompassed Meg, and from what I could tell, Kiers held her there, in sort of a bind.

I knew that was my chance. I ducked back down behind the boulder and pulled out the knife, looking it over briefly, before finding a good spot in the boulders to climb through. The only split I found was a little too close to Kiers, but it would have to do. I was hoping she would be too preoccupied to notice, anyway.

With a deep breath, I darted from my sanctuary. I ran as fast as I could towards Meg, but before I'd even passed Kiers my body jerked to a halt. Even though her back was towards me, she just knew I was moving, and the remnants of her powers froze me where I stood.

Almost in slow motion, her head turned to me, with her raging black eyes and she smirked. A trickle of blood dripped from her left nostril and dripped over her teeth as she smiled, and the knife grew hot in my hand.

"Please." I begged, and prayed that she could hear my thoughts. See my intentions. See that I was on her side, and that we shared the same goal. I wished she could read my thoughts and see how badly I wanted Darkness dead. How badly I wanted to keep Sam safe, but she was too far gone. There wasn't an ounce of humanity left in her eyes.

The knife burned my hand so badly, that I had no choice but to drop it. The second it hit the ground it shattered like fine China. I cursed, again, under my breath and wondered if my death would be quick.

Pinned in midair, my hope seemed to shatter just like the blade, and I didn't know what was going to happen. I guess the only thing that kept me from giving up completely was the fact I could see Kiers was fading. Maybe I still had a shot.

Binding Darkness was consuming far too much of her energy, and she could hardly focus on me. Second by second I could feel her grip on me loosen, and I hoped that if I could just get free, I could end this. Somehow. The blade was destroyed and my gun was empty. I couldn't will her dead, nor could I strangle something I couldn't touch. Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"Kiers?" Mariah's voice broke the silence of my brainstorm. She must have come running when she heard the second round of shots fired, and I could see her approaching cautiously from the corner of my right eye. I heard her gasp when she saw her sister, and I only wished I could have warned her first.

Kiers looked Mariah over skeptically before turning her raging eyes to me. "What is this trick?" She snapped, and in the distance I saw a smile reappear on Meg's face. She must have sensed Kiers' powers weakening.

If Darkness got free, I knew we were all goners.

I felt my heart skipping numerous beats and wondered how it didn't stop completely. Kiers was losing her grip. I could move my fingers and most of my arms. Mariah's presence was completely distracting Kiers, and while I knew it could work to my advantage, I also knew I didn't have much time. I still needed a plan.

I felt the force around me let up completely, as Kiers' right hand fell to her side. I could see the anguish in her black eyes as she tried to figure this all out—for all she knew Mariah was dead, and I had been the one who'd killed her. Her sister's sudden presence was nothing more than a sick joke, and the only prankster in sight was me.

She closed her eyes, and blood filled the creases of her lids. She breathed in a calming breath to channel what energy she had left to decide my fate and with a swoop, her hand rose slightly before her. In it pooled another burning light that sent a flash of memories rushing through my brain.

I'd seen that same light before, in Darkness' hands.

_"Do you know what makes a witch a witch?" _The words echoed in my head and as they did I seemed to notice the air around us grow dark, like a wild storm draining the sky of its sun. I thought I even saw a few trees begin to wilt. _"…her connection with the world."_

That was the last breath I remember consciously taking for maybe ten minutes. After that single instant, something changed in me, around me, and everywhere. All I could think of was that day I stood in front of Darkness and her snarly smile as she held that energy ball. The glare in her eyes. The seduction in her smile. Her dead fingers, curled around her necklace.

That was when it dawned on me. She had been holding her pendant. Each and every time she had used her powers, she had stroking that pendant around her neck. She'd done it when she'd turned Kiers and me, and she'd done it when she was cutting Sam, and curing him. She'd held it to return my strength, and even when she fed. Even know, as she stood stuck in Kiers' blinding bind, she had her eyes closed and her fingers wrapped tightly around that gemmed stone. It was the source of her power, not the knife.

I didn't know if I had to burn it or break it, I just knew I had to get it. I needed it like I needed air in my lungs. I needed it to make the world stop spinning. I needed it to save Sam and maybe Kiers too. Unfortunately, the only thing that stood between me and destroying it was the psycho sister apparently draining the earth of its energy.

Though tempted to make a run for Darkness, I knew I wouldn't make it. Kiers would have killed me the second I moved, so I just stood there, with my arm out hoping to shield Mariah from the blast I saw coming. Kiers hesitated, though. As if she was waiting for something. Maybe it was the bloodloss, or the fact she was sucking far more than her fair share of life from our planet, but she did not attack.

She waited.

She stood there, almost listening for something. All the while her skin grew paler and her eyes grew darker. As I wondered the reason for her delay, I saw it out of

the corner of my eye. Sam stood in the cave's entrance, inches from Meg and her bubble. My heart fell to my feet as his eyes were squinting to connect the dots and figure out this standstill. He looked back to Meg.

"Sam!"I hollered to him, "The necklace!" I could barely hear my own voice. "Sam! It's the pendant!"

Time moved slowly, if it even moved at all. I saw a smirk on Darkness's face grow; this was it. It was our chance to destroy her—victory was in sight, but something was wrong.

"Sam!" I screamed again, though he seemed unaffected by the urgency in my voice. I wondered if he could hear me. I couldn't even hear me. I just kept screaming.

Sam shook his head, as he appeared to struggle with this notion of theft. Seconds ticked on, seeming like hours, and I began to feel that slight glimmer of hope slipping away.

"What the hell are you waiting for?" I hollered, and I heard Mariah yell out a desperate plea.

Darkness yanked the charm from around her neck and tossed it to my brother. I did not understand why she did this, or the hesitance my brother had in smashing it, but he obviously failed to see the direness of the situation. Maybe he couldn't hear me.

"Smash it!" I hollered and my voice turned hoarse, "SAM! SEND THE BITCH BACK TO HER GRAVE!" I yelled one last time, but it was no use. He closed his eyes which caused a reaction I never would have imagined, and in that single instant time exploded—racing forward faster than I could have possibly fathomed.

The instant the tension left Sam's face, Kiers' eyes snapped open, and before I could process what'd happened, her body turned and sent that blazing ball of light right into Meg. I couldn't think, I just ran. I knew I didn't have a second to waste.

I dove past Kiers, as fast as I could towards Sam, yanked that pendant right from his tightening grasp, and smashed it to the ground faster than you could say 'flabbergast.' Just like that it was over.

I'm not even sure what happened after that. It was just over.

I think I might have lost some time, because I really don't remember how it all went down. I guess I could say Darkness exploded into a big ball of light, but that would be lying. I just remember she was gone, along with all the sound in the world. As if I'd gone deaf.

The air seemed thinner somehow, and as I breathed what should have been my victory breath, I saw my brother's face so empty I knew something had to be wrong. His eyes closed, tightly, and his face scrunched as though he'd been stabbed through the heart. I couldn't find the courage to turn and see what he saw. I just knew it was bad.

Suddenly the air felt like poison, and it sickened me. We had won. It was all over, but I was choking, and for a minute I didn't know why. I remember losing feeling in my jaw as I turned my head to see it. I couldn't swallow. I couldn't breathe. I don't know how I could even stand. I just knew I had made a mistake that could not be fixed.

I saw Mariah on her knees, holding her sister's limp body in her arms. A part of me died. I heard Sam exhale a tortured sigh from a million miles away; I couldn't bring myself to look back at him. I couldn't move.

I couldn't find the words to ask if she was breathing. I just felt the hole in my stomach growing larger with each passing second. I couldn't breathe again.

Sounds faded in and out, and time seemed to drag on for eternity.

I just closed my eyes.


	59. Chapter 59

**Author's Note: **

If you've loved it, I can assure you there is more to come; If you've hated it, I advice you to NOT read past this chapter (though I am curious as to why you're still here.)

I've tried hard to accommodate everyone, so I'm positive this chapter serves as a suitable ending... unless you want more. I'm leaving that choice up to you.

Please review and let me know what you think! I'm not even sure if I have any readers (other than the ones I beg, of course.)

* * *

When I opened my eyes, nothing had changed.

I wasn't exactly expecting the mess I'd made to just 'go away,' but I had hoped that in taking a minute to center myself something would have happened—maybe Kiers would have gotten up and laughed it off, or Sam would have checked the her pulse and given me a thumbs up. Even better, perhaps a bolt of lightning would have struck where I stood, I don't know. All I know was that nothing happened.

I took a hard breath and looked to Sam. He looked so numb. I could tell he wasn't breathing, or even thinking. He was just done. The look on his face told me he didn't have the courage to move, and his eyes begged me to take charge, so I gulped and used all the strength I had to walk towards the two girls.

My legs felt weighed down by concrete; my body was empty, heart was racing, nerve endings humming with fear. She couldn't be dead. No. Death was impossible, here.

I stepped closer before kneeling and pressing my fingers to Kiers' bloody neck.

She'd lost a lot of blood. It had streamed down to her shoulder and stained her light pink tank top at the strap. I closed my eyes to try and focus on her pulse, but it was hard to tell whose exactly I was feeling, hers or my own.

"I don't…" I gasped, and with a breath I looked up to see Mariah. Her eyes were so fragile, and they seemed to echo the one question on everyone's mind. I had to close my eyes again to escape the pressure. I shook out my fingers and took several deep breaths before rechecking, but I still couldn't tell. I couldn't think. Her body was cold, and still lacked the color of the average, breathing, person. Could she really be... I looked to Sam for some sort of guidance, but found none. He was still just standing there, staring blankly at us. I shook my head, unsure.

"A hospital." Mariah murmured. Her voice was soft and unsure. "We have… have to get her to the hospital." She sniffled, sounding more confident the second time. I didn't know if it would help or not, but I knew it wouldn't hurt. I nodded, wiped the blood from my fingers onto my jeans, and pulled Kiers' body into my arms.

Mariah hesitated a moment before getting up; Sam didn't budge. I think I may have snapped at him, but I can't really remember. Everything happened so fast. Don't even remember getting in the car, who drove, or the ride. It was all just one big blur. Closed my eyes one second, and the next we were busting through the hospital doors. World spinning, lights burning, ER nurses waving for a stretcher, and my body giving out completely the second I'd placed Kiers upon it.

All I remember hearing is the pounding in my chest, and the echos of hospital sounds so faint I felt I was underwater. Drowning. I might very well have hit the floor had Mariah not placed her small hand upon my back. A wordless 'thank you' that was the only thing to keep me on my feet.

Then there was a man. He had gray hair, wide glasses, and spoke with us about brain trauma, and some glass cow. I couldn't really hear a word he said, though. I was a million miles away. All I heard was the distance between us, as I watched his solemn eyes study Mariah.

Mariah.

She was frazzled, and kept shaking her head with desperate 'Yeses' and 'Nos' in between glances at her sister's motionless body. I imagine she couldn't focus on him either—not with all the beeps and wires.

I saw the tears she was fighting back as she watched the nurses hook Kiers to all sorts of machines. Lifted my hand to pat her shoulder, but caught myself just before actually touching her.

A pat on the back would not make things right. Not after what I had done.

I had done this. All of this. I had single-handedly destroyed her life, and with that realization, I knew I had to leave.

I should have stayed. I should have placed my hand on her back and told her it would all be all right, but I couldn't bring myself to. Instead, I let my hand drop back down to my side, pressed my lips together, and ducked out while Mariah's gaze was cast upon her sister.

The hospital doors swished open, and I felt free. Like I could breathe again, but that only lasted for a second. Then I felt like jello. Cowardly, spineless, jello. The panic set in my heart, and I thought about turning back, but how could I? For one, Kiers might actually stand a chance at recovering without my black cloud looming over her head, and second? Well, I just had a feeling in my gut that this was not a 'happily ever after' tale. Maybe I didn't want to know the ending, because not knowing was easier.

I had to leave.

With a solid gulp, I looked to my car. Seems Sam hadn't even gotten out. He was still sitting, motionless, in the back seat. I felt cold. Sick. Dead.

A good three minutes into my stare, he became aware of my presence and turned to stare me down. I knew he probably hated me as much as I hated me, but I was relieved because I knew he'd never say it. He made no other motion, either. He just sat there staring, until he was stared-out. Then he looked back at the headrest, completely numb.

I hate this.

You know, it's bad enough when you know you've screwed up your own life, but to screw someone else's up? And I mean royally screw up someone else's life. It's truly a horrible feeling. It just sucks.

It's hard to breathe, or think, and you just feel like dying. But you know even dying doesn't help, because some mistakes are just so big they'll follow you to hell, if they're not the things that drag you there in the first place, of course. So you do the only thing you can do and kid yourself into thinking you can somehow move forward, past the mess you made. Now maybe it's because you're selfish, or just too much of a coward to do anything about it, but you decide to make an honest effort to go on living. You hear time heals all wounds and think, hell, maybe somehow you can still make amends, but at the end of the day those are all lies too. You just end up lying to yourself because you know the whole world is gonna keep on moving with or without you. Regardless of the fact you're miserable and frozen with regret, the sun will still rise and set and time will tick on. And despite the fact that every fiber of your being prays you could go back just for one second to change it— even just one little detail— you know there is nothing that could ever be done to make things right again.

I did what I had to do. Got in my car, aimed if for the interstate, and did my best not to look back.

Not gonna lie, leaving was probably one of the hardest things I'd ever had to do. I couldn't even imagine what Mariah must have thought when she turned and realized I was gone. She'd never forgive me, and I wouldn't ever forgive me either, but it was my only option.

There were still monsters out there—still things that went bump in the night. Things that kill people. Things that I must hunt. People I must save. They're all out there now, and they'll be there long after I'm gone, which really makes me wonder if the 'good fight' is worth fighting. I mean, on one hand I wish I could just walk away from it. Get the hell out of dodge, settle down and live my life the same ignorant way as the rest of the human population.

On the other hand, Sam was right. About everything.

We'd never be normal, and we'd never have normal relationships. We just weren't dating material. We come, we screw up, and we leave. Two peas. Pod of misfortune. Yada, yada I quit.

And that's where my story ends. At least 'that' part of my story.

If I've accomplished anything by sharing, I hope I've at least managed to make your life a hell of a lot more appealing to you, because your damn lucky you have it. End of story.


	60. Chapter 60 The End!

The ride was going to be terrible. I could just tell.

And I knew I wouldn't be able to stand it, either.

Within a minute, and for the very first time that day, I'd realized how cold it was.

I couldn't see my breath or anything like that (it was spring, after all,) but it was just offensively cold. Enough so to make 'not' seeing my breath a noteworthy thought, but it was still strange. I'd spent hours in the woods, without my jacket, and I was just now finding out it was cold? I remembered the sun and the faint breeze rustling the trees, but I couldn't once remember feeling the air.

Maybe it was that the adrenaline had worn off, or Sam's cold shoulder was affecting the temperature, or the fact the sun had finally retreated for the day, but it was just raw. The kind of raw not so easily remedied by heaters, blankets, or hot showers. Heaters would make your skin tingle, blankets are useless when you've got no body heat to begin with, and showers? They'd just burn your skin.

This was the type of cold you just had to deal with; the type caused by climate and worsened by emotional distress. I hated this. Wished I'd had my jacket, or had at least known where it was. Probably back at the apartment. Couldn't go back there. No.

I smacked the dash of my car hoping to expedite the heating process of my radiator, or maybe just alleviate some stress. Sam said nothing. He just sat there.

In fact, the more he sat there, the more I could tell he was ready to blow. Like literally explode into a ball of tears, and I just didn't want to deal with that.

I didn't want to talk to him. I didn't want to look at him. I didn't even want to be in the same car with him. If I could have packed him in the trunk or stuck him on the roof, I probably would have, because I just couldn't stand that sad, brooding face of his. Not now, not ever.

I just wanted to be alone.

Sure, he was miserable, and he had every right to be, but I wasn't exactly Mr. Sunshine myself. In fact, that was exactly why I was hoping to avoid him. We were both so upset, I could just feel one hell of an incredibly awkward conversation brewing; I knew I had to jump ship. I just couldn't go there, and not because I'm some stubborn-ass guy who's detached from his emotions or anything like that. I just couldn't go there because I knew all that weepy-eyed crap was good for nothing.

I mean, think about it.

Yes. We could sit there, spill our guts and clear the air. Hell, we could even cry our hearts out, but it wouldn't change anything. Really, if we did all that we would just wind up feeling worse, so, why waste any more energy on this? Move forward, get over it. That's what Dad always used to say. Just get over it.

Kept my eyes on the road and tried my best not to look at Sam, knowing that even a peek in his direction might open the dialogue I was so desperately trying to avoid. Every time I felt inclined to glance over and check on him (to make sure he hadn't imploded) I heard the word 'mayday' screaming over and over again in my head. My insides would seize up, too, like I was walking through a door from which there was no turning back. Each time, I chickened out and went back to staring at the road before me.

Just me. Not him. He was basically gone anyway, right? Checked out, staring at the scenery like someone who'd lost all his marbles. Had he lost all his marbles? Was he even in the car? I was tempted to check, but too much of a coward at the same time.

This wasn't going to work.

It was a lose-lose situation. I couldn't keep pretending he was non-existent, and I couldn't talk to him either. I also didn't have a clue as to where we were going, and though my gut kept telling me the further away the better, I knew that logic was problematic.

The further I would drive also meant the longer our ride would be, and there was no way I could spend an indefinite amount of time trapped in this car like this. Even a trip to Sioux Falls would cage us together for at least a day, and then I'd be stuck explaining this mess to Bobby.

No matter which way I looked at it, I was screwed, and with the interstate was quickly approaching I knew I had only a single mile left to make some sort of a decision. My heart began skipping beats. If I got on i95, we would be trapped in this car for hours. Hours.

My eyes remained glued out the window, looking for any sort of escape, but this place was so damn primitive. Not a bar or strip club in sight. In all the miles, not much had even changed. Everything was the same. Predictable. It was all: Tree, tree, tree, river. Tree, tree, tree, house. Tree, tree, laundry mat. Interstate in .5 miles. Tree, tree, tree, gas station. All hope had left me up until I saw that Citgo sign and without so much as a thought, I slammed the breaks and made a swift u-turn, sailing recklessly into the parking lot.

I thought briefly about getting out of the car, but settled on sending Sam instead. I probably should have gone in myself, but I just didn't want to. The night's sky was dark and as uninviting as the March weather. If I could have curled up and slept there, I would have. I just didn't want to exist.

"I need a beer. Can you get beer?" I mumbled, rationalizing that if he was forced into a public setting, he would then also be forced to put a lid on that emotional time bomb of his.

I knew Sam. He was way too proud to have a mental breakdown in front of complete strangers; he just might come out of there with a new outlook on life.

He said nothing; just got out of the car and walked up to the store with his typical broody demeanor. He kept his head held high, as though nothing was bothering him, but I could see that lie. I saw the tension in his body in his tight shoulders and the aggravation fresh on his face.

"Jerky too." I added, hollering out my window as I rolled it down. "And maybe something sweet, like a lollypop."

Yeah. I needed something to get my mind off of all this crazy shit. Beer would definitely work, and so would the lollypop. I would get to the bottom of that stupid sucker-riddle and the world would finally know EXACTLY how many licks it took. Wait, what's that, Sam? You want to talk? Sorry, I'm busy solving an age-old mystery, come back later. One, two, three!

Yeah, that's right. The best known secret to overcoming misery was distraction. I rubbed my hands together as I reached them for the vent. I was determined.

I was done feeling bad. I wasn't sorry, and I certainly wasn't going to be some chick, sobbing about the regrets I had. No. I wasn't even going to tear-up, or so much as think about those two girls. I was going to forget about everything.

And why shouldn't I?

Kiers was probably being checked out of the hospital at this very moment. Scratching her head, and laughing like the past few weeks were nothing but a dream. A really bad dream. Everything was probably fine, and they could probably go back to their normal lives, and I could go back to mine. It was that simple. Easy as pie.

I mean, really, why wait around any longer? It's not like hanging around a few more days would change anything. Kiers and Mariah would still hate us, if not have us arrested, and then I'd be sitting in jail feeling even more stupid than I already felt. The best thing to do was to leave. We had to just leave. Today. End of story.

The simplicity of that thought made me laugh. Just leave. Just walk away. Just pretend like nothing happened. Just move on. Just go.

I heard the passenger's side door creak open and felt the car duck down as my brother sat back in, and the shame in thinking those thoughts caused my body temperature to rise right out of the artic zone. The heat, however, was short lived. It was regulated by Sam and the same icy silence he'd left with.

The door slammed shut, causing my whole body to shake. Maybe even jump. I couldn't really tell on account I felt a million miles away from myself. I closed my eyes

This was ridiculous. This was all ridiculous. I could face him, and I did. I smiled as I turned to him, but he just handed me a paper bag.

Whatever.

I had more important things to worry about. Didn't need to dwell. My brain seemed to call instantly for that tootsie pop, so I just about ripped open the bag.

To my dismay, my brother had completely screwed up my simple order.

"What the hell is this?" I questioned, angrily. I dug through it and shoved it back at Sam.

"It's what you asked for?" Sam sounded pretty confused, but I knew he was well aware of his mistake. He had to be.

"Jerky, beer, and …lollypops?"

"That's funny." I scoffed in utter disgust, "You knew exactly what I wanted, and yet you still screwed up. Are you trying to mess with me?"

"Mess with you?" Sam snorted and shook his head. "How the hell did I screw up? Look. Beer! Jerky! Lollypop!" He pulled each from the bag and held them up; I just shook my head with disapproval.

"That?" I replied with a hint of absurdity in my voice, "That's a lobster on a stick, Sam. Clearly 'Not' a lollypop!" I snapped. Was he serious? How could he not remember? He was the one who brought up the stupid sucker in the first place. You would think he would have at least had the decency to get the right kind so I would have something to do for the next umpteen hundred hours.

"It's '**candy**.' On. A. Stick." He said that last bit as if I were some kind of moron, slowly stating each word as if it was its own sentence. Then he shook his head. "Unless they …changed the definition of a lollypop, you're an ass."

"Now you hurt my feelings." I said smugly, ignoring the condescending tone in his voice, before putting the car in gear.

Mission inadvertently accomplished, I guess. Nothing else was said.

I was more than relieved.

There was absolutely no way he would talk to me now—at least not for a few days. That would give me plenty of time to get somewhere that was not here, and believe me, I couldn't wait to get out of this damn state. If I could have blinked and been gone, I would have been. I was so sick of these stupid trees and all this emptiness. Not a decent thing to do for miles; all you could do was drive and reflect. I hated it here. It was so painstakingly miserable I didn't know how could I have ever considered living here of all places? Must have been the monster in me, that's all. That made sense.

I had never wanted to live here. This whole town was shitty. My landlord was shitty. My apartment was shitty. My shitty neighbors who liked Elvis were shitty. I never wanted that shitty job I'd applied for. And Mariah? I had never wanted her either. I had hated Kiers, and I hated Ron. I still didn't know who the hell Ron was, but I hated him like I hated that bar tender guy. I even hated the stupid bar. Nice place my ass. ElMore's? It was a pathetic excuse for a bar, and it probably got its name from some drunk's attempt to identify a Sesame Street character.

No, I had never wanted any of that. That had all been the darkness inside of me. The evil. I couldn't wait to get out of this place. I couldn't wait to be...

"Can we just go?" Sam snapped, impatiently. I saw the tears he should have had filling his eyes; the tears that were hiding behind all the pent up anger he had in him.

I suddenly saw the situation for what it was.

I was sitting there, in the Citgo parking lot, thinking about how much I wanted to leave—but not actually leaving. I was still trying to find the guts to leave. And, right then and there I knew I couldn't. As much as I wanted to, and as close as I'd gotten, I could not bring myself to leave. Not like this.

I pulled out of the parking lot, and headed straight past i95, and drove until I reached the only place that made sense. That stupid hospital. I'm not even sure Sam noticed until we pulled up; I saw the betrayal flash across his face as if I'd tricked him somehow.

"What are you doing?" He asked me, his voice full of fear. I couldn't answer him. I wasn't even sure what I was doing, but it just felt right.

"Dean!" He snapped, after I'd ignored him. I just ignored him again. I still didn't want to deal with him. Not yet.

With a deep breath, I pulled into the parking lot and jerked the car into park before thinking about storming off, but I couldn't bring myself to do that either. Something had gotten into me, and I couldn't leave him hanging there.

"I'm sorry." I said, and for the first time in my whole damn life, I felt the need to say more. "You were right." I said sadly, "You said that this was going to happen, and you were right. I should have listened to you."

Though my voice remained strong, I'd be lying if I said my eyes didn't swell a bit as I spoke. I made sure I wasn't looking at Sam, though. Instead, I was staring at the main entrance of the hospital. The bricks dated the place much better than I could have, and I couldn't help but notice all the scrubs standing out front for a cigarette break. Was that even legal?

Sam snorted at me, and I knew he was mad. I braced myself for the 'I told you so' I felt forming on his tongue, but he held back. He just murmured "It's fine" real uncomfortably under his breath and asked me what we were doing there.

"I don't know…" I said, feeling tears dangerously close from escaping. I forced them away with an angry laugh. "I tried to leave." I said so matter-of-factly. "It's just… I need to know if she's going to be ok."

With that I rose from my seat, slammed the door, and assumed Sam would follow.

Inside the hospital, I instantly recognized the doctor who'd been speaking with Mariah. He was standing at the nurse's station reviewing someone's medical charts—with a perplexed look on his face. He was so lost in thought that I couldn't find the words to call for him, not that I even knew his name in the first place. I just reached for his shoulder, instead. It seemed to catch him off guard.

"Excuse me," I apologized for startling him, "That woman? I was here with earlier...?"

"D-152" He said with a sad smile before looking back at his chart.

I watched him carefully, wanting to ask more. I wished he would look back up, laugh, and tell me all the stuff I wanted to hear about Kiers being fine. I wanted him to tell me everything was fine—and I felt my insides humming with anticipation for those simple words, but they never came.

I saw the doctor's face grow pink, as if he knew I was still watching him. Waiting. Pity filled his eyes as a sigh escaped his lips, and I just knew. I felt the hope come crashing down around me in that instant. I didn't know how this could be, but I knew something was very wrong.

"If you want to see your friend, you should go now."

I felt as though I'd been punched in the gut. Hard. I couldn't breathe.

He smiled and put his hand on my shoulder, "I mean, she is scheduled for a CT scan in five minutes. Go."

I laughed, loudly. Half relieved and half not. I half wanted to punch the guy, and I half wanted to ask him how Kiers was doing. Instead I settled on seeing for myself.

I think I thanked the doctor before following the direction his finger had pointed me in, but I don't remember. I don't even remember the walk through the hallway. I don't remember my legs moving at all, or reading the room numbers beside the doorways. I just remember being outside the room, not being able to bring myself to so much as knock.

I remember just standing there, like the chicken shit I was.

A nurse brushed past me after several minutes. Brunette, mid-forties, with a tired look on her face.

"We got the results back from the preliminary blood work." She said, and Mariah turned to see who was speaking to her. I caught her eye, though, and she started at me until the nurse spoke again.

"Everything looks good so far. Glucose, electrolytes, blood count, blood sugar, blood gas, Blood alcohol content all normal."

The last one made Mariah chuckle, the way an insomniac chuckles at a poor joke. I was glad she laughed, though. If I had known her better, I would have thought her mind had wondered off during the nurse's spiel.

"Radiology is ready, so we're going to take your sister in for a CT scan to check for any internal swelling or injury. But, and I don't mean to overstep, here, it's just I've been doing this job a long time, and I know the signs of an OD when I see them."

Mariah laughed again, and shook her head before just walking away.

"Are you family?" The nurse looked at me curiously.

"More like family friends." I sighed, and maybe for the first time saw Kiers. She was so still, and her mouth hung open like she was having trouble breathing. Or dead. There were no breathing tubes attached to her, just IVs and monitors. Beeping and flashing, and making my insides curl.

Then I felt something brush against my arm. Made me jump. I turned to see the nurse, smiling kindly at me. "Could you do me a favor and talk some sense into your friend, then? We've given her sisternaloxone, but that only counteracts opiates. The sooner we know what's causing this… the quicker we can treat it, and the better her chance of recovery might be."

It hit me then what she was talking about. OD? Blood alcohol content? Drugs. I laughed too, then turned to follow after Mariah. I found her standing in front of the vending machines, staring mindlessly at their steady glow.

"I thought you'd left." She laughed when she noticed me; her eyes didn't stray far from the limited selection of soft drinks before her.

"I did." I said, and noticed something about her shrank a little. I felt obligated to move closer, and get a better view of her eyes, but I couldn't bring myself to do so. Instead I just continued my thought, "I mean, I am. I am leaving."

I had to be clear about that, and even though I'm sure it hit her hard, ripping her open like a knife through the heart, I had to get that straight in her head. I wasn't here for her, or Kiers. I was here for me, to clear my conscience, not that it mattered at all at this point. But I wasn't here for, nor was I staying for either of them. I was leaving. Definitely leaving.

A funny noise sounded in her throat, and her mouth gaped open as she tried to find something to say. She looked back at me for a second before closing her eyes and shaking her head. "Drugs?" She laughed, and then she cried, her hands rising to her head as her body quaked.

"I…" I wanted to say I was sorry, for everything, and that those doctors were a bunch of idiots, but my mouth went dry. There was nothing to say. Nothing that could fix this, or even make it just a little better.

Her hands fell from her forehead to her nose, covering it as she breathed slowly into her fingertips.

"Why are you here?" She asked, her angry voice muffled by her palms. I felt her icy stare now burning through the vending machine. "I don't even care." She laughed again and then once more in an effort to convince herself she didn't care. "Drugs." She repeated, and paused after the absurdity wore off, "And you?" She turned to me with pain-filled eyes, and her face just broke. Crumpled before me in an anguished effort to cope, or at least make a bit of sense out of things. "Why is this happening? How can you just walk away?"

I bit my bottom lip.

The way she asked it, I knew it was never really a question. It was more of a statement, or, better yet, an accusation, and right on the spot I knew what I needed to say. I knew what I needed to do.

I made up my mind, and I smiled a smile that seemed to soften her face, just a tad.

"I can't." I said, and that confused her the way it confused me, even though it made perfect sense in my head. It did not ease Mariah's worries at all, but it was the truth. I couldn't do a thing for Kiersa, here, and I told her that.

"Not here, anyway, but I promise you, I will do what I can to make this right."

* * *

~Fin


	61. Afterword

**Afterword: When It Rains**

* * *

Thanks all so much for reading! Please don't forget to review!

In my opinion, there is nothing more uncomfortable than having someone stare at you-and you not knowing what they're thinking. This is how I feel every time I get a message from this site saying someone has "favorited" my story or added me to their author alerts... Someone is looking at me, and I don't know why. It's incredibly flattering, but... please take a moment to tell me **why** you enjoyed the story. I _really do_ love having the food for thought, and hearing your thoughts does inspire me to keep writing. (Plus I need to know what's working and what's not, because I want this series to be perfect!)

For those of you who don't know me, _Yes_ I said series. _When It Rain_s is actually the opening chapter for my SAGA Series-and SAGA stands for: Somethings Always Go Askew.

I realize now that the name may be grammatically incorrect, but it is still seemingly appropriate since that is the overarching theme of the stories. I like to think I've dreamed up the the perfect mix of star-crossed love, angst, and humor, but I will leave that up to you readers to decide! Please keep an eye out for the second chapter, _The Ropes_.

The second story will be written solely from Sam's POV, as many of his thoughts and emotions went unmentioned here. I figured I would stick to the whole first-person thing at least for the first few stories, then gradually adopt a 3rd person style. Wish me luck!

Lastly, I was actually going to post a deleted scene here, but I figured I would use it for a little blackmail instead. Review and I will send you the last tidbit of this story. Nothing really important as far as the plot goes-just a clippette after the bar fight with Nick, along with a cute picture I felt captured the moment in my head. It made me smile, and I figured it would be a neat way for me to thank you for joining me on this adventure!

xox


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